Thanatos' Game
by Courtanie
Summary: A year after the events in 'Unmasked', a new challenge is placed in front of Mysterion. Will he figure out the origins of his past and his powers? Or will he do nothing more than drag Kyle and Stan down with him into the unknown?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Here it is, Kids. The sequel that many of you threatened my balls for =u=**_

_**Let's just hope I can finish this one without any hiatuses. Nooo promises though. This time, we're taking it from Ken's POV. **_

_**Enjoy~**_

* * *

Somedays are definitely easier than others it seems. On one hand, things are seeming to move in a linear path, in the way it's supposed to. Nothing exciting happens, everyone seems content to be where they are, it's just a typical life for us all here in this little piss-poor town.

Other days, it's not so simple. There's still screaming and crying. There's still violence and unimaginable heartache among townspeople. Some days, it's like a war zone. And when those days arrive. I do nothing but throw my mask and cape on and run around stopping what I can. Sometimes I can on my own, sometimes the cops intervene and make my job a little easier.

The papers have taken to the "new" Mysterion. This one is completely shrouded in mystery like I was the first time around. Somehow, I didn't end up becoming a public enemy after what happened with Cartman almost a year ago. I'm still treated as a martyr, and a vigilante who's doing amazing things. Honestly, I don't get why Gotham hates Batman so much, it's not that difficult of a job.

I stare out onto the city, watching the sunset from beyond the small-rise buildings and just take a deep breath. I hate this town, I truly do. But I can't help but feel a need to save it. No one else seems to be willing to take that risk, but what better do I have to do?

After all, "Kenny" is dead. No more chances of getting into school or anything like that, since a quick background check pulls up the word 'deceased'. It was strange, attending my own memorial service all that time ago. Stan showed up for appearances while Kyle was still in the hospital, although he knew well and good that I was still alive. I watched from a distance, crying a tad as I watched my little sister put a rose on my headstone. It broke my heart to see her and my mother like they were. I guess they were just waiting on me to come back, but I knew that this time, it would just be so much easier if I stayed "dead".

It really is strange, seeing how the world evolves without you. I still watch Karen as she walks to school, secretly threatening anyone who so much as _tries _to pick on her. She seems to be doing very well, though. The kid's gotta tough skin, which is something that she no doubt picked up from myself and Kevin growing up with our shithead parents. She's gonna be just fine, and I know she doesn't need me, but I can't help but still want to smother her with brotherly affection.

God help her first boyfriend.

"Mysterion?" a voice calls out. I look down from my post up on a roof and see a bright gleam of red hair. I smile and leap down the stairwell. He's gotten much better at remembering not to call my actual name out and about town. It took a little while, but he was smart enough to realize the ramifications it could have.

"Well what's up with you, Kyle?" I ask, pulling my hood down and letting my blonde hair fall into my eyes.

He smiles softly at me and shrugs. "Bored, wondering what you were doing."

I snort and gesture around, lying down on the stair platform slightly above his head. "Same as usual, waiting for someone to scream."

He shakes his head lightly and sighs. "Do you want anything to eat?" he cocks his head. "I finally got out of Mom's hold for a few hours."

I smile sadly, "Ky, you know I can't go into a restaurant with you."

"What if I get a wig for you?" he raises his brow. "'Cause I'm gonna be totally honest here, it kinda sucks that every single date of ours is in my bedroom."

I laugh and lean forward, kissing his forehead, "You get a wig and sure I will."

His face breaks into a mischievous smirk and he pulls a backpack from behind him as I watch suspiciously. His fingers fumble with the zipper and I can't help but feel my stomach lurch as my eyes land on a scar on his thumb. It's small, not _nearly _as noticeable as the other ones he gained last year, but it's still there. Every mark on his body left from his ordeal drives me crazy, knowing that I could have prevented them. It takes everything I have every time I see them to stop myself from apologizing and holding him.

My attention is jolted away as he pulls, no surprise, a curly wig out of the backpack and shakes it. "How about this one? I know it looks like pubes but it's the only one I can afford," he shrugs.

I take the black faux hair in my hands and chuckle. "You're just trying to make me look closer to Stan, aren't you?" I tease.

"Oh yes. You know my attraction to Stan is bar none," he states flatly. "Oh god the boners he gives me."

I crack up at his unamused expression and fiddle a bit more with the wig, looking down the alley towards the town. "Well..."

"Come on, Dude," he pleads. "The town can be without you for right now, plus I brought you a change of clothes. I literally have a three hour window before my mom calls the cops to find me."

My smile fades and I look towards the ground, slowly raising my eyes up towards his. Poor Kyle. After his parents came back and found out what had happened to him, nothing had been the same in his life. The mere fact that he had been able to get out of the house to get the mail was a shock after three months of his mother constantly watching him. The Broflovskis installed new security alarms, new locks, new _everything, _and poor Kyle felt like he was on lockdown constantly when what he needed the most was to get outside and re-acclimate himself to the public. I did what I could in those times, but I couldn't exactly sneak in through the window. I didn't see him for weeks until he finally figured out how to disable that lock through the system.

Getting out like this was a treat for him, I'd hate to be the one to get in the way of him having a nice time.

I make a big deal out of sighing and rolling my eyes, plopping the wig down on my head. "Finnnneee," I drag out. He smiles as I twist my body around and plop down off the platform. He reaches up and helps tuck my hair into the wig, glancing behind myself and him looking for passer-bys.

"Change behind the dumpster," he said, "I'll keep and eye out." He hands me the backpack and glances sideways.

"This looks like a drug deal," I chuckle, ducking down behind the dumpster and starting to strip off my uniform.

He glances my way and smirks, "You wish."

"Can't blame a guy for hopin'," I reply, taking my change of clothes out of the bag and stuffing my costume down in. "Anything to cover my stuff with?"

"I'll put my sweatshirt in there," he states, pulling it off and tossing it over to me. I stuff it down in and zip up the bag, sighing as I slip on the jeans he packed. I catch him staring at my stomach and smirk, making a big show out of pulling down my t-shirt. He blushes and groans, "Dude, hurry uuupppp."

I step out and grasp his chin, pulling him in for a long kiss. "Mm, it has been awhile since we've had more than five minutes together, hasn't it?"

"About a month, yes," he nods impatiently.

I laugh, grasping his hand and exiting the alley with him. "Well have your parents backed off of you any in that month?"

"What do you think?" he pouts. "My mom won't stop calling me if I run out, my dad is constantly checking on me to make sure I'm still in the bed at night, and Ike just clings to my side like a parasite."

"They worry about you, is that so bad?" I shrug with a wince.

"Well...no...," he looks down at his feet as we walk down the street. I look him up and down and feel myself conflicted. I want him watched constantly, I won't tell anyone otherwise, but I understand that he feels smothered, hence the reason I've been more lenient of our time together.

I bring my hand up and scratch the wig, groaning softly. This thing is horrible. Not the quality, Kyle wouldn't screw up in that department, but I hate having things that aren't hoods on my head. Way too claustrophobic feeling. "How've you been, though?" I ask.

"I've been okay," he shrugs, looking back up at me. I can't help but smile at those forest-green eyes. "Have some bad days, have some that are so-so."

"No...no good days?"

He hesitates, "I...I don't know. Everything is really hard for me right now. You know...the trial just ended and my birthday is coming back up where this whole thing started...It's just a lot to handle."

I nod, "I get that. But hey, you fucking sent that fat bastard to federal prison. That's pretty great."

"Not a life sentence, though," he mutters under his breath, his gaze falling back down angrily. "Fucking 25 to 50? You know he'll get out before then for such small circumstances."

"Well don't be so sure..."

"Oh please," he looks up again, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "You know he can sweet talk his way out of _anything_," he emphasized. "You were there, you saw the fucking jury eat him up like candy. The fact that he didn't walk completely free still fucking amazes me. He'll play prison like a fiddle, get out on good behavior, and probably try to kill me again," his voice remains firm, but his hand flies automatically up to his chest. I narrow my eyes in worry, watching his fingers lightly trace over where the bullets scarred him. They're not a pretty sight, and the fact that Kyle has to see them every day still pisses me off to no ends. I'm with him, I almost lost my shit when Cartman was given such a small sentence, but I knew that my feelings didn't matter, only Kyle's did. It was my job to stand there and protect him from getting himself thrown in jail.

I pull him in by the waist and lean my head down on his. "Look, you know I'm here," I say softly. "And you know Stan's there, and, as much as they're annoying you, your family is, too."

"Well Stan's almost as bad as they are," he finally laughs a bit. "You're the only one who gives me any space at all. Which, thank you for that."

"Anytime," I smile, kissing his red curls.

We walk side-by-side through the town silently, our arms wrapped around one another's waist contentedly before we're interrupted by a long ring.

Kyle throws his head back and groans, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He slides the answer-button over and mutters, "Yes, Mom?

I can't help but snort.

"With...a friend," he glances at me shrugging. "No not Stan. No...no Mom...No you never met...Mom. Mom? MOM!" he shouts into the receiver. I jump back a bit startled as he turns and begins moving his mouth to mock his mother. I just shake my head amusedly. His mom is definitely over paranoid but...if anything like that ever happened to my kid, I guess I would be, too.

"No, no Mom I'm getting dinner that's all...No Mom...I'm okay, I promise...For the love of God, Ma I'm fine!" he insists. "No I don't need Ike to come escort me home," he seethes, slapping his palm against his forehead.

Ouch. Talk about kicking the ego.

"Mom, I'll call you when I'm on my way home, okay?" he promises, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I promise, I'm safe...Okay...you, too, bye." he finishes and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

"Well...how was that?" I ask smirking.

He sighs and reassumes his position against me. "I totally get why she's acting like this but I mean...come on."

"Well, Dude, you're just going to have to live with it," I nudge him. "Wouldn't you rather she be over-protective than not give a shit?"

"I just want middle ground," he whines. "Is that really too much to ask?"

"At this point...yeah," I shrug. He looks at me and I continue, "Ky you weren't awake when they got to the hospital. You weren't there when the police were telling them everything," I look down sadly, "you didn't see the way she fell apart."

"Okay yeah but that was like, almost a year ago," he retorts. "I mean...I'm not _over it _obviously but...I'm trying to get outside more and...and...," his shoulders slump.

"And you want it all to go back to normal?"

"Exactly," he breathes. "You realize that it's not just Stan and you and my family, right?"

"Whaddya mean?" I cock my head.

"Everyone knows who I am," he pouts. "_Everyone _remembers. No matter where I go someone reminds me of it. People coming up _congratulating _me for fucking surviving," he says, his face going red with fury. "They say 'oh my god if I were you I never would have made it!' Well good for fucking you," he snarls. "I just want one, just _one _day where someone isn't overbearing, or some stranger isn't coming up to me for a hug or something."

"Well, face it, Ky," I kiss his temple, "you're famous. People are admired for being strong and that's what you were."

"Well then why didn't I ever feel like I was?" he crosses his arm miserably. "I mean...we haven't talked about it...at all really since it happened..."

"I was waiting for you," I say softly. "Wanna eat here?" I nod to a little diner. "We can eat outside and keep talking," I smile. He smiles back a little and nods.

We walk inside and instantly, things start to hush down. Eyes start slowly peeking looks at Kyle and his face turns bright red. His hand tightens around mine and I can feel a subtle quake against me. I lean down towards him, "Go wait outside, I'll get the menus." He nods, turning on his heel and rushing out the door. I turn and glare at everyone else. "Yeah, treat him like a fucking freak show," I snarl, "It's not like he's been through enough, so that'll make him feel great." Everyone gains an uncomfortable shame about them, turning back to their tables and murmuring quietly.

I hate small town life.

"Hey there," the waitress nods. I glance at her nametag, reading 'Porsche'.

"Ah, a Raisins veteran?" I smirk.

She laughs and nods, "Yep that's me. Eatin' out there, Hon?"

"Yeah, thanks," I nod as she hands me two menus.

"Hey, that was cool what you did for that Kyle kid. I'm sure he gets that all the time, that's not really fair," she makes a concerned face, chewing gum and searching my eyes.

"Well, no one deserves to be treated like that," I shrug. "Thanks again. Can I get one Coke and one Diet to take out there now?"

"No problem, Hon," she smiles, bounding away behind the counter.

A man of about 50 looks at me while I wait and I glare back. "What?"

"Nothin', nothin'," he shakes his head. "You just looked a little familiar is all, Son."

"Oh," my face softens. "Sorry, Dude, I don't think we've met." That was probably a lie, I've met just about everyone in this town one way or the other while on patrol. He turns back to his burger as Porsche walks back with our drinks.

"The one with the straw is the Diet," she smiles. "I'll be out in a while for your orders, okay?"

"Thanks," I nod, grabbing the cups and stuffing the menus under my arm. She opens the door for me and I thank her again, walking to the back of the restaurant, finding Kyle sitting alone, staring up at the sky.

I head over and set his drink in front of him and he turns to me and smiles sadly. "Is it diet?"

"Of course," I nod, taking a seat across from him and handing him his menu. He silently scans over it and I stare at him. Being in public with him should be fantastic, I haven't really ever gotten to do it what with my situation. But now, I'm starting to think that maybe this should have been another night in his room.

"Do...do you think they judge me?" he looks up at me with a wince.

I blink, "Judge? Whaddya mean?"

He sighs, placing the menu down and stirring his soda. "I mean...what are they thinking when they look at me like that? Is it 'oh my god it's that victim kid'? 'he was on the news?' 'he probably had it coming to him'?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," I stop him, waving my hand. "_No one _is thinking that last one."

"But how do you know?" he asks softly. "Things have been so...weird around here lately. At least for me. Stan and I went to the mall the other day and we had to leave because people were literally following us around stores."

"Did they think you were shoplifting?" I quirk my brow.

"No...no...I don't think so?" he shrugs.

A few beats of silence pass before I clear my throat. "Kyle, what did you mean you didn't feel strong?" I ask.

He looks up warily and takes a long sip of his soda. "Well...I didn't feel strong," he echoed with another shrug. "It felt like I was losing...all the time," he says.

"But you know that you weren't," I furrow my brows at him, leaning towards him with my hands folded. "You _know _that everything that happened was not your fault."

"Oh really?" he frowns. "Because, last time I checked, I'm the one who left the house, and I'm the one that couldn't outrun those fuckers," he stirs his drink, avoiding my gaze.

"Kyle, you were outnumbered."

"Doesn't matter," he replies softly. "The fact of the matter is that it happened and there's nothing I can do about that. But now I've got this notoriety that I'm...the victim. I hate it," he slinks down in his chair.

I reach over and grab his hand, holding it tightly. "You're not just the victim, Dude. You're the survivor."

"Yeah well if I hadn't have been so stupid I wouldn't of had to 'survive' a damn thing," he retorts, meeting my eyes at last.

"Dude," I start, "Whether or not _you _believe it, you're fucking incredible for putting up with what happened the way you have. Most people would have been...well..."

"Dead," he says flatly, taking another sip. "Because a lot of people in my position probably would have killed themselves."

"Well...maybe...?" I shrug. "I can't speak for other people, but I know that you came out of this with flying colors."

"No, not really," he shakes his head. "I still have fucking nightmares. I'm creeping up on twenty years old and have to have a goddamn nightlight," he blushes. "I have panic attacks all the damn time, you and I haven't had sex this whole time because the mere _thought _of being...exposed like that again just makes my hair stand on end," he shudders. "And then on top of all that psychological shit I have people breathing down my neck about my safety which, let's face it, just reminds me of what happened and makes it all so much worse."

I nod sympathetically, "I can see how that would be an issue."

"And...well...I had to keep waiting on you," he stares at me with sunken eyes. "I had to keep saying 'oh he'll save me' or whatever. Why...," he pauses his shoulders drooping, "why couldn't I save _myself?_"

I open my mouth, but realize that, no matter what I respond with, it'll make him feel so much worse. He wasn't strong enough? Cartman just bested him? I was meant to protect him? No, no that is all wrong. Kyle and I hadn't talked about the events of then up until now. I was waiting to see if he ever wanted to...and even with all this time passed by, I have no idea what to even begin to say to him.

"I...I don't know what to tell you," I whisper, squeezing his hand.

"The worst part is, neither do I," he chuckles humorlessly, staring off to the side at the grass. "I can tell myself I was outnumbered and there was nothing I could do all I want...but it doesn't make me feel any less weak."

"No weakling would have made it like you did," I say firmly. "Look, regardless of how much of assholes they look like, those people that stare at you are right. It's fucking amazing that you pulled through this, and they recognize that."

He looks up tiredly and sighs. "I guess I'll have to keep telling myself that. After a year though...you'd think that it'd start going away."

"Well...maybe someday soon it will," I say gently. "But right now, you're still the talk of the town, and you may as well take that fine ass of yours and strut it around proud of yourself."

He chuckles and shakes his head at me. "Maybe one day...but definitely not today."

"Well no one said that it had to be right now," I coax. "Or tomorrow, or next month, or even next year. This is for _you _to work through, but you know that I'm here for ya."

He squeezes my hand and gives me a sweet smile, "thanks," he whispers.

I watch him look back at his menu, staring at the spot where the bullets passed into his body. That whole moment still haunts me, the whole idea of losing him made me nearly hang up the cape until he convinced me otherwise. I don't know how he's done it, being able to stand up after the ordeal he had. I know I wouldn't have been able to, he's a lot stronger than he gives himself credit for. I breathe out softly, squeezing his hand and reminding myself that he's still here, and I'm damn lucky for it.

Both our ears perk as we hear a police car zoom by. We watch it head down towards the end of town and Kyle sighs. "You going after that?" he asks.

I turn towards him and shake my head, lacing our fingers together. I smile at him softly, "Nah, you need Kenny more than they or anyone else could ever need Mysterion."

He chuckles, squeezing my hand back and winking, "I don't know, I'm kinda in love with both of them."

* * *

_**A/N: ugh, exposition chapters. They are the bane of my existence.**_

_**Jsyk, the whole story is not going to be like this. It'll get more towards the dark stuff kinda like the first one only not really, but, this is a sequel so I figured I should probably actually get through this crap at the get-go.**_

_**Anyway, **_

_**Thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: The bad thing about writing so many stories with the same characters is I have no fucking idea what was said in what story =_= Re-reading these over and over is wearing me down, man, haha.**_

_**Okay, so, super filler chapter here, I'm sorta sorry. I'm trying to set up for next one, which will actually start some damn story lolz.**_

_**Enjoy~**_

* * *

The walk back to Kyle's is long and quiet, something that we both need considering the overwhelming bearing of our separate situations. Or fingers are linked between one-another, and I pay special attention as the tip of his thumb slowly traces circles down into my index finger. I glance towards him and can't help but smile at him. He's biting his lip slightly and his free hand is cautiously twirling one of his carmine curls around itself. It was a nervous habit he picked up a few weeks after his ordeal. As he said to me, 'bite my lip so I know I can feel, twirl my hair to make sure that it's real'. He fucking hated how when he told me it came out in a really gay-ass rhyme, but that was just another part of him that I couldn't help but love. Don't get me wrong, I hate the fact that he went through something to prompt him _needing _a nervous habit, but the fact that he was able to find a way to keep in seated in reality so fast was pretty fantastic.

I can't say I don't envy that in some way.

"What's up?" his voice pierces the cool spring air. I look down, his tendril still curled around his index finger, his eyes scanning my face curiously.

I shrug, "Nothing, really."

He sighs, his fingers dropping from his hair as he leans his head down against my arm. We come to a stop in front of his house and he turns around in front of me, shooting a smile. "You gonna head back on the streets?"

I chuckle, "Well where the hell else am I gonna go?" It was true, I literally had no idea where to go anymore. For the past year, I'd been drifting between sneaking in and out of Stan and Kyle's house for somewhere warm to sleep. I'd been lucky enough that Token, Tweek, Butters, Clyde, Craig, and Kevin hadn't been convicted for anything, so I got to crash with them on occasion as well. But I knew as well as anyone, Mysterion belongs on the streets. It's hard to be constantly vigil for a town when you're curled up on someone's basement couch.

"Well...are you coming over tonight?" he asks softly.

"I'll try," I promise, leaning down and sliding my arms around his waist, placing my lips softly against his own. He sighs contentedly and snakes his hands up my face, his fingers gently clasped around the back of my neck. I take a heavy breath of his scent and shudder. I wish in this moment that I could be Kenny. I really really do. I wish I could give him the normalcy that he deserves, but, I also know that it's not going to happen, not with the way I've managed to completely erase myself. Coming back now is just out of the question...

"KYLE!" a voice shrieks.

We pull away from each other in fright and shoot our heads back towards his house. I can feel Kyle tense and his breathing stop altogether as we stare at the incoming threat that is his mother.

"Oh god," he murmurs.

She reaches us, clasping Kyle in a death-grip hug and shaking him like a child with a ragdoll. "Oh my bubbeleh," she says, pouting a bit as Kyle pushes away from her, trying to catch his breath from the onslaught.

"Jesus, Ma, I was only gone for like, two and a half hours," he rolls his eyes.

"And who," she ignores him, eyeing me up and down, "Is this?"

Uh oh. I remember the wig situated atop my head and gulp, looking down at the woman before me and biting my lip. I didn't plan for this, I have no idea what the fuck to tell-

"Ma," Kyle luckily intervenes, stepping to my side, "This is...Brandon," he looks at me with a very subtle shrug.

I smirk back and extend my hand forward to Sheila. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Broflovski," I state. This feels weird. I've known this woman since I was in pre-school. I should be past the nervous introduction to the boyfriend's parents stage by now.

She tentatively takes my hand and shakes back, slowly taking all of me into her view, "You...you look so familiar, Brandon," she squints her eyes at my face.

"H-he was in my SAT Prep class," Kyle sputters. "Remember the one you took me to every day last year? You probably recognize him from that."

She cocks her head, releasing my hand and letting out a small 'hmm' under her breath before she directs her attention to Kyle. "Well, it'd be nice if you'd introduce me to your 'special friend' before I find out like I just did, bubbie," she pouts.

"S-sorry?" he shrugs. "I wasn't really...whoa!" he shrieks as Sheila pulls him into another hug.

"Oh, Honey," she coos, petting his head maternally. I can't help but snigger, poor Kyle has at least a foot on his mother. He looks like a degenerate ape the way she has him slouched over in her arms to pat him. He shoots me a pathetic 'help me' look and I shake my head. This is too great for me to interrupt. "You know you can tell your mother anything," she hugs him tightly. "Now when on earth did the two of you get together?"

He clears his throat and straightens himself up again. brushing down his t-shirt. "Well we've been together for...a few months," he cringes. I raise my brow before slowly nodding in agreement. I guess Sheila didn't let him out of the house until a few months ago, anything before that and she would be concerned and lock down the home even further.

"Well that's wonderful, Bubbie," she gushes. I can't help but say I'm surprised a bit. I never really expected Sheila to jump all over the idea. I figured it'd come down between one of a few ways: Either she figured Cartman hurt Kyle enough that he could never be with anyone ever, or at least one of those fucking pretentious talks people give to their gay kids about 'how we'll always love you but we don't like your choice' bullshit. Sometimes I forget just how chill his parents are with others. Damn stereotypes...

"So," she looks at me with a small smile. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Brandon?"

"Well, Ma, we just at-" Kyle pauses as his mom hushes him.

"Nonsense, he can just stay over until we eat, it'll be a few hours," she smiles. "I insist."

"Well...," I weigh my options. Risk my stupid wig falling off and deal with that whole mess, or, work my way back into Sheila's good graces so I can come and go into the house as I please. Actually, that sounds pretty fantastic considering my current circumstances. "I'd love to, Ma'am," I smile. I can feel Kyle looking at me in surprise and reach over, gently squeezing his hand.

"Wonderful!" she claps her hands together. "Would you like to have your parents over? Oh and we can invite the Marsh's!" she grins.

"Um, my parents are...away," I say slowly. "On...business."

"Oh? What do they do?"

I freeze. Shit. I'm not used to smooth talking out of trouble. I usually punch a bitch and go from there.

"They're accountants," Kyle says smoothly. "Big clients and whatnot."

"Oh, have you met them?" she raises her brow at her son.

"Only for a brief moment," he sighs. "They don't know about the two of us either, so don't feel like I'm going behind your back, Ma," he rolls his eyes and I can't help but snort. He's remarkably good at lying to his mother. Not sure if his talents constitute as a good or bad thing...

"Well, then you're welcome to stay here until they come back," Sheila smiles, stepping between the two of us and linking her arms through both of ours. I have to say, she can be an unstoppable bitching machine sometimes, but she's always been kind to Kyle's friends. I guess that just works out more in our favor.

She leads us up to the house and pushes open the front door, chaperoning the two of us into the Broflovski's living room. "Hold on, I'm going to go tell Gerald," she says excitedly. "Bubbie, call Stanley and invite them over," she pats his cheek. "I'm so happy that you're finding new people in your life," she coos before quickly stepping towards the stairs and tromping up them in glee.

We both stare after her and blink slowly. "Wow," Kyle says.

"Seriously," I nod. "Who knew she'd be so cool with this?"

"Definitely not me," he sighs, plodding over to the couch and flopping down on the far end.

I smirk, following and sitting down next to him, leaning against him as he pulls out his phone. "So. Brandon?"

He chuckles and shakes his head, "Dude. I have _no _idea where the fuck that came from. For some reason, it was just the first thing that popped into my head."

"Admit it, you've been sleeping around!" I cry out softly, throwing the back of my hand onto my forehead dramatically. "How could you?"

He scoffs, "yeah, you know me," he mutters, scrolling through his phone to Stan's number and holding it up to his face, pressing the speaker phone. "I'm a world class slut. You're just not enough for me, McCormick."

"I knew it!"

He just laughs before listening as Stan answers his phone _"Hey, Dude."_

"Hey, so, few things. One: You and your parents are welcome to come over to dinner should you see fit."

"_Hang on, lemme ask."_ he says. Kyle and I listen to the sounds of him running down the stairs and calling out for his parents. A soft discussion is heard in the background and I chuckle, running my hand up Kyle's side and finding the hair at the base of his neck, playing it through my fingers. I feel him shudder and lean up, kissing his ear and throat and watching him amusedly as he shoots me death glares.

"Dude," he spits, shouldering my advances. "On the phone."

"Wherever you want, baby," I growl.

He rolls his eyes before Stan's voice appears back on the line, _"yeah that sounds good to us," _he states. _"What else did you need to tell me?"_

"Well, are you back upstairs?" Kyle's voice drops lowly.

He pauses for a moment, _"I am now...you okay? You sound...worried."_

"Yeah, Dude I just don't want my parents to hear me," he says. "We got Kenny into my house."

"_How'd you manage that?" _he asks.

"A wig and a crappy name that Kyle gave me," I chortle.

"_What's the crappy name?" _Stan laughs.

"...Brandon," Kyle mutters.

Stan gives out a long snicker, _"Ah, dude, that's the gayest name you could have given him."_

"Don't be a dick," Kyle seethes. "Look, just make sure that you don't slip up, okay? We don't need our parents getting all curious or whatever."

"_Gotcha. We'll head over in a few."_

"All right," Kyle responds. "Bye," he hangs up and looks at me tiredly. "I hope to God that this works. Sorry my mom caught us," he says sheepishly.

"Dude, no worries," I wave him away before wrapping my arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer. "This will make it a lot easier for me to see you. I don't know why we didn't think of this sooner."

"Because I didn't think that it'd work," Kyle chuckles. "I didn't think that they'd be so dense that they wouldn't recognize you because of a dime-store wig."

"True," I nod. Our ears perk as we watch Ike bounding down the steps, stopping dead in his tracks as he catches sight of me.

"Well, that's a fucking lame-ass disguise," he scoffs.

I snigger, "Well hey, you come up with the money for something better and we'll talk." He smirks, walking down and standing next to me. I reach up and ruffle his hair, "Haven't seen you for awhile, how you holding up, Squirt?"

"Pretty good," he nods. "I don't think that you can be doing much for the city by sitting in our living room though."

"Oh well god forbid I take a break from volunteer work," I scoff.

"Ike stop being a pain in the ass," Kyle sighs.

"Nope," he smirks, falling on the couch next to me. He leans back and puts his feet up on the coffee table and looks over at the two of us. "So, what's new?"

"Not much," I shrug, leaning back and putting my arms behind the two of them. "Hanging out with the nerdiest brothers in the state but other than that it's been pretty typical."

They both look at me unamused, "Gee, thanks," Kyle mutters, elbowing my side and leaning back into me. He crosses his arms and snuggles contentedly against me and I loop my arm down and stroke his hand. Ike pulls out his phone, losing all interest in my being here and I look around the living room with a heavy sigh. I miss coming here all the time. I miss just sitting on the couch playing games with Stan and Kyle for hours on end. I wish I could go back to all of that...and maybe with this new 'persona' of mine I can. Considering the fact that neither of us is going anywhere until at least next year. I literally can't because of the fact that I technically don't exist. Kyle had decided to wait until he was more recovered to go off and to school, and Stan had stupidly (in Kyle's opinion) decided that watching over his best friend was more important than heading off to college just yet. The three of us meet up in town whenever we can, but it's starting to just become cumbersome. Hopefully this little change would make the world of difference for us.

"You all right?" Kyle looks up at me in concern.

I shrug and kiss his head, squeezing him back against me, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Gayyyy," Ike mutters, bored, as he continues to type away on his phone.

"Aw," I feign a pout, leaning over towards him. "Is little Brof upset that his big brother is getting all my attention?"

"Ew, sick," Ike sticks out his tongue and pushes me away as I snigger. "You go ahead and be butt buddies all you want, keep that mushy crap the fuck away from me."

"Ike! Language!" Sheila's voice breaks from the stairs. Kyle and I stare at Ike and snigger as his head ducks down and his cheeks go red.

"Sorry, Mom," he mutters, staring at his phone.

Sheila and Gerald come down the steps and stand in front of us, staring -approvingly I might add- at Kyle and I cuddled up on the seats. "Hello," Gerald smiles.

I smile back, extending my hand and feeling another rush of strangeness pull over me. This situation is almost surreal... "Nice to meet you, Sir," I nod.

"And you as well, it's nice that Kyle's finally branching out from the house," he beams.

Kyle raises his brow, unimpressed. "Well if you guys would've let me out now and again I'd be a lot further than I am now."

"Hush now," Sheila pats his head. "Did you invite the Marsh's?"

"Yeah," he nods, "they'll be over in a little while."

She claps her hands excitedly. "Excellent! It's been so long since we've had all of them over here!"

Kyle shifts uncomfortably and I frown. I guess they haven't been over since everything happened. Makes sense. Hell, the two of them letting Stan himself come over was a hell of a trial for Kyle to deal with.

"It'll be like old times," Gerald beams, throwing his arm around his wife and smiling at the two of us.

"Well...not exactly," Kyle mutters.

The room goes stale for a moment and Sheila clears her throat, "Bubbie, are you okay with us doing this?"

"Yeah," he nods. "But...this is gonna sound weird but hear me out," he looks around at the four of us. I cock my eyebrow and he pats my leg. "I...I think we should invite Liane, too," he winces.

Another heavy silence echoes around us, the clear sound of Kyle gulping breaks through as he watches his parents' and brother's faces fall into deep concern.

"Why, Kyle?" Gerald asks, sitting on the arm of the couch beside him.

"Well...since Cartman did what he did, she's lost everything," he shrugs, staring at his twiddling fingers. "I...I saw her today when I went out. She's a total mess. It's not her fault that he was...well, you know..."

I pull him in and kiss his forehead lightly, not giving two fucks about who's watching us. "Dude, that's really awesome of you," I say gently.

"And you all know how much she apologized to me at the trial," he continues, looking between his parents. "I don't know, I don't think we should ostracize her because of Cartman."

Sheila and Gerald look at each other, slowly nodding. "Well..." Sheila starts, "If you're okay with it, Bubbeleh. I just don't want you upset."

He shakes his head, leaning back against the couch and sighing quietly. "No, I think it's a good idea. She's still a sweet person. It's not her fault her son turned out to be a psychopathic fucktard."

"Language," Gerald smirks, lightly hitting his arm. "I'm proud of you, Kyle. Not many people would be willing to do that for someone in your position."

"Yeah, yeah," he blushes, falling back deeper into my side. I frown a bit. Poor Kyle, he's right. No matter what he does, someone thinks that he's some kind of savant for it.

Though I'll be the first to admit, I'd personally never let Liane Cartman near me were I him.

"Well, I'll go call her and get started on dinner," Sheila smiles softly, leaning down and kissing Kyle's cheek before bustling off to the kitchen.

Gerald directs his attention to me and smiles, "So, Brandon, how are you doing?"

"Brandon?" Ike raises his brow. Kyle shoots him a look, flickering his eyes back towards myself and angrily glaring daggers into the poor Canadian. He blinks before he forces out a laugh "O-oh yeah, _Brandon_," he laughs, slapping my arm a bit. "Sorry, Dude, I forgot you were here for a second." Kyle rolls his eyes and I can't help but snigger.

"I'm doing just fine, Sir. Yourself?"

"Busy as Hell lawyering up this town," he chuckles. "I hear you'll be staying with us for awhile."

"That's what Mrs. Broflovski told me, yes," I give the most polite smile I can muster. I have a chance to start fresh with these two, I may as well try not to be a complete dickhole like usual.

"Well it's good to have you. I think the company will do Kyle here some good," he nods. "Do you have a job?"

"U-unfortunately not, Sir," I stammer. "I worked for a small company but they...got shut down a few weeks ago," I shrug. "So I'm looking around."

"Well I'll tell you, Son, the job market around here is appalling," he says. "Good on you for still looking though. Hopefully you'll find something soon."

"Thanks," I smile. Kyle looks at me with an approving grin and I squeeze his arm.

"Well, I'm going to get some more work done before all the fuss," Gerald sighs, standing up off the couch and stretching. "Let us know if you need anything, Brandon."

"Thank you, Sir."

He leaves and starts up the stairs. The three of us stay silent until we hear his office door shut and Sheila talking on the phone.

"Dude," Ike chuckles. "What the fuck is up with you being all polite?"

"Yeah, really," Kyle snorts. "I don't think I've _ever _heard you say 'sir' before."

I shrug, "Hey, I have the chance to get a fresh start and make your mother ignore the fact that I'm not Jewish," I chuckle. "Besides, it'd be more obvious who I actually am if I start talking like an ass."

"Well you already look the part," Ike scoffs. I reach back and smack his head softly, sticking out my tongue as he reciprocates.

Kyle just rolls his eyes and groans, "Can you two ever get along?"

"Nope," Ike responds, jumping off the couch and sticking his hands down in his pockets, giving his brother a sheepish grin. "After all, we live to annoy you. What with us and Stan, you have the trifecta of wanting to rip out your gay-ass hair."

"Hey now, I love his gay-ass hair," I smirk, running my fingers through his red locks as he growls under his breath.

"I hate you both."

"Oh the hurt," he rolls his eyes. "I'm going back to my room."

"Good for you," Kyle scoffs.

I look between the two of them as Ike hurries back upstairs and shake my head, "Fuck, man, you two are so much alike it's unreal."

"Oh please," Kyle hits my chest lightly. "I could not be any more different from that little Canadian dipshit."

"Uh huh, sure," I chuckle.

He pushes up off me, turning around on the cushion and throwing his legs over mine, his back leaning against the armrest. "So, guess we're roomies for awhile, huh?" he smiles.

"Looks like it," I nod. "Kind of amazing that they're so cool with that."

He shrugs, "Honestly? I think they're thinking of it as a 'now there's someone in the way of precious Kyle and his ultimate doom'."

"Ah, so I'm a meat shield."

"You're a sexy meat shield?" he shrugs and laughs.

I grin, leaning towards him and pecking his lips. "Talkin' 'bout my sexy meat, huh?" I growl.

"Oh it's always on my mind," he flutters his lashes stupidly.

I snort, taking my hand and ruffling his hair. "You idiot, I love you."

"And I'm okay with you, too," he teases, grabbing my hand and kissing it softly. His face cradles into my palm and a part of me can't help but melt into it. I know it sounds gay as fuck, I know I'm supposed to be some kick-ass vigilante with nothing but justice on my mind...but fuck I love our stupid moments like this. They're so sparing anymore that each one feels like a special treat, no matter how ridiculously girly it makes us look. And I'm no fool, staying here with his parents won't guarantee privacy no matter what we do, so for now, the world can wait for me, because I have the world right here in the palm of my hand.

* * *

_**A/N: okay so I've gotten progressively drunker as I've written this chapter tonight. So...it got a little cheesy at the end there. But goddamn OTP fer lyfe. I mean, Kyle doesn't want the naughty no-no's so you know that Ken would be all over taking advantage of every little sweet sexy thing that Kyle does ugh. Feels.**_

_**Okay I promise this story isn't going to be all like this, I swear to Santa Christ it's not. (thumbs up if you get that reference). Next chapter will be filler-ish but not quite? It's gonna be Stan Ken and Ky talking about shit going down so there will be some stuff working around and in here.**_

_**Okay I'm done drunk rambling. I love you guys.**_

_**Thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: I think this story will end up being a deal longer than Unmasked was. I mean, as of now, I can't say for certain, but it's going to take longer to get to the action.**_

_**After all, the first chapter of UM was literally supposed to be a one-shot so it really dove in there. It's different when you know it's gonna be awhile x_x**_

_**(And between you guys and me...if I could go back and redo some of UM I totally would, even though it was so fun sob) UM was 19 chapters and an epi...so...Idk. We'll see how it goes though.**_

_**All right, enjoy~**_

* * *

True to his word, not more than ten minutes later, the doorbell echoes throughout the house for Stan and his parents. Kyle jumps to his feet off of me and heads over, throwing it open and smiling at our guests.

"Hey, Stan," he smiles.

"Hey," he nods, giving Kyle one of their trademarked awkward two second Super Best Friend hugs. Kyle steps aside and the three of them crowd in, shutting the door behind them. Stan glances over at me and I can see him holding in a desperate laugh. "Brandon," he nods, scratching at his own hair teasingly.

"'Sup," I nod, making a mental note to smack him later.

"How are you, Kyle?" Sharon looks down at him kindly.

"I'm great, Mrs. Marsh."

"Well that's good," Randy nods. "We've been worried about you."

"No need to," he waves his hands in front of him.

Sharon cocks her head and leans over, grasping him in a hug. "We miss you over at our house, you know."

Kyle laughs embarrassedly. "Well, convince my mom to let me out more and I promise I'll return to eating all your food."

She squeezes him and pulls back, and I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. While Kyle and Stan's parents always treated me just fine, they could easily interchange parents and never know the difference. They've always been like one big squabbling family. My parents just kind of kept to themselves. They were civil, but nothing at all like the Marsh's and Broflovski's.

"Well when you come back, let us know," she coos, brushing some of his red hair out of his face, "I'll stock up on your Diet Dr. Pepper."

"Thanks, Mrs. Marsh," he chuckles, blushing.

"All right, all right," Stan breaks between them. "No more embarrassing Kyle. That's for me and _Brandon _to do," he smirks.

Sharon and Randy glance over at me and I offer a small wave before getting to my feet and walking over to their little group. "Hello, nice to meet you," I smile politely.

"Hey there," Randy sticks his hand out and I grasp it back. "You one of Kyle's friends I'm guessing?"

"Actually," Sheila comes over out of the kitchen and grabs both Kyle and me around the waist, pulling us to either of her sides. "They're _together," _she smiles.

They blink at the two of us and Kyle clears his throat uncomfortably before Stan interjects, "Guys I told you all about Ky and Brandon," he whines. "Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"A-are you sure you did? I mean," Sharon looks between the two of us, "it's not like we're offended or something, we just had no idea that you were seeing, well, _anyone,_" she winces, looking at the redhead.

Kyle shrugs off his mother's touch and offers her a small smile, "Well I'm not one to shout my personal life to the world."

"Yeah, Sharon, _gawd,_" Randy looks over at his wife, who returns a glare. "That's great for you tw-" he pauses, cocking his head at me. He steps over closer to my face and studies it and my heart lurches. Of all people, Randy could not possibly be the only one who can recognize me. He should be the furthest down on that list.

"You...God, who do you look like?" he scratches his head.

I take a step back and shrug. "I look like me?"

"See now I said the same thing!" Sheila nods. "Doesn't he look familiar?"

Kyle, Stan, and I all exchange worried glances.

"Oh my gosh," Sharon gasps. "He looks like..._Kenny._" The name drops along with the three of our stomachs. "I mean...they look a little different but my god, he could be Kenny's brother!"

"You're right, Sharon!" Sheila exclaims. She steps over and grabs my chin in her hand, pulling me down and turning my face at different angles. I shoot Kyle a cry for help and he steps over.

"Come on now," Kyle laughs. "Ken's been gone for a year now...you're just forgetting what he actually looked like!"

"Hm," Sheila lets go of my face and shakes her head, "No, Kyle, I'm not. Kenneth was over here all the time! We fed him, we always made sure he was taken care of, and we loved him. You really think we'd forget his face?"

My heart soars a little at her words and I have to bite my cheek to stop from smiling. That's a first, someone actually remembering me, someone remembering that I had died at all in fact. Well, outside of Kyle, Stan, and Ike. They were the only ones constantly aware of what had happened. But we didn't talk about it, it was something none of us were willing to question much.

Well. None of _them_ anyway.

"Hey yeah, you're right," Randy nods, scanning me up and down. "Same eyes and everything."

"A little more muscular though," Sharon notes.

Well jumping around from building to building will definitely do that for you.

"Can we please stop scrutinizing Brandon?" Kyle steps in front of me, my senses overloaded out of nowhere with the fresh scent of strawberry and mint, the comfort of his scent overriding most of my worries in the moment.

"Kyle I think you subconsciously got with this boy because he reminds you of Kenneth," Sheila puts her hands on her hips. "You miss him so much that you needed someone else to fill the void."

Ouch.

"That's a little harsh, Mrs. B," Stan steps over beside Kyle. "He doesn't look _that _much like Ken, though I can totally see how you'd think so."

"Besides," Kyle places his hands on his hips in a fashion almost identical to his mother's usual argumentative stance, "Brandon and Ken are _totally _different, Ma."

"Oh really?"

"Well yeah," he scoffs. "You think I would've dated Kenny of all people?"

I know that was just for the lie, but seriously, double ouch.

I step up and wrap my arm around Kyle's slender shoulders and shrug, "I never met Kenny so I can't exactly verify all that for you," I smile awkwardly.

Sharon sighs and chuckles under her breath, "Oh, I miss these fun little gatherings of ours, Sheila."

"Oh me, too," Kyle's mom finally breaks concentration from us and we all three sigh in relief. "Us girls in the kitchen, the men watching TV, all four boys in Kyle's-" she stops and looks at her son with wide eyes. "Bubbie I didn't mean-"

"Hey," he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "It's fine. You're right. All four of us would be in my room playing video games and waiting for dinner," he smiles crookedly, though I catch the hand at his side trembling a tad. "Not like anything that's happened changes the past," he shrugs.

"Speaking of which..." Sheila looks up at the Marsh's, "Liane is coming over as well."

"What? Are you serious? After-" Randy's mouth gapes. He quickly shuts it as he catches Stan glaring at him furiously. "I-I mean, yeah that's cool," he nods.

"It was my idea," Kyle says softly, and I grab his hand, squeezing it as re-assuredly as I can muster.

Stan walks over and puts a hand on his shoulder, clearing his throat. "I think the three of us should go wait upstairs for awhile, huh?"

"Yes, you boys go have fun," Sheila nods. We all turn to walk away and she pauses, "Actually, Stanley, Brandon, can I talk to you two though? Just for a second." We stop in our tracks and Kyle looks back, blinking.

"Ma, you're not gonna-"

"Bubbeleh, go on," she nods.

He blushes and groans, heading up the stairs and into his room. We all listen for the door to close before the two of us turn back to her.

"Look," she starts. "Obviously...we're very bad at avoiding that certain subject," she states guiltily.

"I'm sorry," Randy shakes his head. "I just can't believe you'd let that kid's mother in your house."

"Kyle said that it was a good idea!" she protests. "And I don't know if agree with him, but yes, it's hard enough for us to not bring it up all the time, but now..." she trails off, rubbing her forehead.

"Look," Stan speaks firmly, looking the three of them in the eye. I can't help but be inclined to listen as well, Stan has always had a hell of a talent for commanding a room. "You all need to grow the fuck up, okay?"

"Stanley!" Sharon hisses.

"No, listen, Mom," he glowers. "Ky has it hard enough right now. You guys need to fucking filter yourselves. All you've been doing is reminding him of everything that's gone wrong. That stops. Now."

"To be honest," I interject, trying to stand myself up to match Stan's height, "you're making him worse."

"Hey! Sharon! Randy!" Gerald comes from behind us and steps over to the group. "How are you guys?"

"We're...we're being lectured by teenagers," Randy shamefully dips his head.

"Oh?" he looks at the two of us questionably. "What about?"

"Kyle and what happened," Stan replies thickly.

"...Oh."

"Look," I start, noticing that Stan is starting to lose his cool. Super Best Friend over-protection is his game. He has no problem bashing anyone to the ground who upsets Kyle, and I can only assume that includes the four in front of us. "Stan's right. Ky's told the two of us more about the whole aftermath than anyone, including you two," I nod pointedly at Sheila and Gerald. "You keeping him prisoner in here is only making matters worse."

"You need to back off," Stan snaps a bit. I pat his back a bit and he looks at me, nodding slowly and taking a deep breath. "You need to loosen up," he says slowly.

"Why do you think he wanted Liane to come?" I ask.

They all look at each other and Sheila gives me a sharp, smug look. "Because my Kyle is a good boy with a big heart. He wanted to make sure she was all right!"

Stan and I look at each other and snort a bit. "Really?" Stan raises his brow at her. "You _really _think he gives two shits about how she's doing? Her son _ruined his life._"

"Well now, don't go that far," I say quietly as Kyle's parents move towards each other, Gerald's arms wrapping around her as they both give off subtle tremors. "But, he wants her over here because he wants you to understand that he's trying to move on," I insist. "He's making every effort in the world to just forget it and start over, and you're not helping him."

"We don't know _what _to do," Gerald says, squeezing Sheila's shoulders. "We really don't."

"You should have talked to me when it happened," Stan growls quietly.

"No one would know how to react," Sharon says softly, stepping beside Sheila and placing her hand on her shoulder. "But the boys are right. You need to let go of all of this anxiety around him."

"HOW CAN I LET GO WITH THAT WOMAN IN MY HOUSE?!" Sheila shrieks, her face falling into her palms and choking out sobs.

"Because if I can handle her being here, then it should be a picnic for you," Kyle's voice pops up. We all look back as he steps up in front of his mom. He wraps his arms around her gently and she clutches him back.

"Oh Bubbie," she cries. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

He's silent, looking at me and Stan and seeming absolutely exhausted.

Sheila steps back a bit, her eyes glassy and bloodshot as she looks up at the redhead. "Oh, Kyle. I don't know what to do for you. I feel so helpless."

He stares quietly, and I can more than tell that his mind is racking with every single thing he could possibly say to her. "How do you think I feel?" he states. "I deal with you breaking down all the time, Dad installing a new lock every three minutes, Ike always checking on me, and people in town just...just all over me," his face screws up. "Then you make a show in front of the only company we've had in a year," he purses his lips.

"Kyle, we're sorry," Gerald winces. "Look, we just don't know what to do."

He looks up at his dad, then scans over the Marsh's, looking back behind at myself and Stan. He takes a step back between the two of us and gulps. "I...I know what to do."

"What is it, Bubbeleh?" Sheila asks hopefully. "We'll do anything."

He straightens up, grabbing my hand tightly for support. I have absolutely no idea where he's going with this, but I can tell it's something that he's had on his mind for a hell of a long time. "First off, I want you to be civil to Liane. I told you once, and I won't again," he narrows his eyes, "she is _not _to blame for what happened to me."

"Of course," Randy states. "You know we wouldn't attack her or anything."

"Well with the way you're all acting now?" he raises his brow, "I honestly don't know if I can believe you."

"He's got a point," Sharon murmurs, rubbing gentle circles on Sheila's back.

"Second...," he shuts his eyes and grips my hand to the point where I cringe. Sometimes I forget how damn strong he is when he's stressed. "I...I want to move out," he breathes out, as though some huge weight had just fallen off of him and crashed through the floor into the basement.

Everyone is silent and still for a moment, all eyes locked on him. "Ky?" I shake his hand softly.

"Why would you want to do that, Kyle?" Sheila cries out, all of us practically hearing her heart shattering with his revelation.

"Because," he opens his eyes back into hers. "You were right earlier. The _four _of us would be up in my room. The _four _of us would be sitting on that couch over there," he cocks his head back, "playing video games." He pauses, letting out a long, shuddery breath. "And...I can't deal with it anymore. I can't deal with the lockdown and the privacy issues and just the fact that...I can feel him _everywhere._" his shoulders start trembling and I grab around him and pull him into my chest. I look up at Stan who looks back helplessly.

"Kyle," he says softly, touching his back, "Are you all right?"

"No," he mutters into my chest, shaking his head slowly back and forth. "I'm not. And I haven't been for a long ass time. I just can't do this anymore..." he whimpers, pressing himself further into me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

Sheila's eyes are swimming with tears and Gerald is grating his lip with his teeth. Stan's parents look on, absolute guilt and pity swimming over their faces.

"Kyle, do you want to stay at our house?" Randy asks.

"Cartman was over at our place all the time, too, Dad," Stan reminds him quietly. "Trust me, I can feel him there, too."

"What about your place, Brandon?" Sharon asks. "Could Kyle stay with you there?"

I look up at all of them and bite my lip, realizing that, fuck it, Kyle's happiness is a lot more important than lying about a family. "No. I'm homeless," I admit. "I don't know my parents, so I crash around with friends."

Sheila and Gerald jolt in shock and I feel guilty for a few moments, letting my hand glide over Kyle's back comfortingly. There was no other way out of that one, the only other thing I could have possibly done is tell them who I really am, but that would've opened a whole other can of inappropriately-timed worms. Besides, that would've had the same result.

That fat bastard was over at my house constantly, too.

"I'm sorry I lied," I say. "But...I didn't want you to think that Kyle was involved with a useless piece of garbage."

"You're not useless, you idiot," Kyle looks up, swatting my head lightly. I see a small smirk play on his lips and smile, leaning down and kissing him quickly. I can feel the tenseness leaving his back and shoulders. He must've been holding in these feelings for a long fucking time.

Gerald starts up quietly, "Your circumstances don't make you who you are," he says pointedly. "Not anyone," he looks down at Kyle.

He sighs and pulls off of me, turning to face his parents. "Look, I know that's a lot to ask of you but..."

"No no," Gerald holds up his hand. "We understand, Kyle. We really do. We'll...have to talk about it."

"Bubbie," Sheila sniffles, reaching over and cupping his face in her hand. "Are you sure that something like this would help you?"

He nods. "Mom, I haven't gone in my closet for a year now because I know one of his shirts he left one day when the guys were over is sitting on the floor. I can't keep living like this."

She sniffs again, patting him lightly. "We'll talk about it. Why don't you three head upstairs? We'll wait for Liane and call you down when dinner's ready."

"All right," he pulls her in for a hug. She squeezes him as tightly as she can muster before letting him go, albeit begrudgingly. We can feel their eyes on us as we trudge up the stairs, stopping to see Ike sitting on the top step. He jumps up and moves out of the way, watching us make our way to Kyle's room and following us inside.

"What is it, Ike?" Kyle asks tiredly, sitting on the bed as I join him. Stan sits in Kyle's desk chair, his hands folded down between his legs and staring at the ground.

"I...I heard what you said," he says. A little meow rings in our ear as Mani crawls out of Kyle's closet. I smile fondly as he rubs my legs before hopping onto Kyle's lap. He meows up at the redhead, who snorts and places his hand on his soft head. Ike continues, "Are you really wanting to leave?"

He looks up at his brother tiredly, his fingers scratching along Mani's back. "Ike...you know how it is for me here. You know how hard it is for me to sleep. And you know that Ken can't be himself here and I just can't stand that. I...," he stops and breathes out angrily, glancing around his room. "This just doesn't feel like it's a safe place anymore."

Ike nods, stepping up in front of him and punching his shoulder lightly. "Well, if you do get to move out, I'm allowed over whenever I want, right?"

Kyle smiles crookedly, "yeah, but you have to leave your Canadianess at the door. I don't tolerate those from the Great White North."

He snorts and picks Mani up. "Just for that, I'm taking your cat," he sticks his tongue out, heading out towards the door. He looks back and smiles sadly before walking out, closing the door behind him.

Silence billows around the three of us. Kyle lies back on the bed exhaustedly, Stan still stuck staring at the floor, and myself just wondering what the fuck else Kyle was hiding from us.

"Kyle?" Stan finally speaks up, his eyes never leaving the carpet.

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell us?" he looks up as Kyle slowly sits back upright.

"Because I've been trying for a year to convince myself that I was just imagining things," he replies.

"I wish you would've said something," I say, kissing his temple.

"And then what?" he asks. "I go live on the streets with you? Sleeping on building roofs?"

"Hey, my catnaps on top of Tom's are fantastic," I smirk.

"Besides, there's no one here in town who I don't associate with Cartman," he shudders. "I mean...hell, sometimes I have to avoid the two of you for a few hours," he admits guiltily. "I can handle people for the most part, but I can't handle living in the past like I am, living in this same room..."

"If you need us to leave you alone, you know we will in a heartbeat," I assure him. "We don't take any offense to that, especially when it comes to Mysterion and all."

"Speaking of which," Stan starts, "Why aren't you patrolling?"

I snort, "Because the furiously powerful wrath that is Kyle's mom kidnapped me."

"Will our hero make it out of this one?" Kyle mocks an old announcer with a mischievous grin playing on his face. "Or will he soil the underwear he retardedly wears on the outside of his costume?"

"Hey. at least I'm wearing underwear," I try to pout, but can't help having to stifle a laugh.

"Oh thank god Kyle said that," Stan runs his fingers through his hair, laughing. "Dude I've wanted to tell you for so long that that costume is fucking stupid but I was afraid Kyle might bash my skull in."

"Please, for making fun of Ken?" he scoffs. "You know I'd jump right in that action."

"Hey man," I say, "You can't make fun of the costume. Dude those one piece things don't leave much to the imagination. Trust me. I tried without the underwear and my junk just kind of...jostled with me."

"Aw dude sick!" Stan gags.

Kyle just raises his brow and looks at me amusedly. "Really? Junk jostles? That's the reason? For the love of god dude, wear a cup."

"Okay but you're gonna be staring at a hell of a bulge then," I shrug.

"I already have to every time you're near me," he teases and I shoot him a wink.

"No, no, no," Stan shakes his head and his hands at us. "We are not playing the 'Get Stan to Vomit' game.

Ky looks over at him with a feigned pout, "But...but it's my favorite game. I'm so good at it."

Stan shakes his head, standing up and walking over to us before wrapping his arm around Kyle's chest and pushing him down into the bed.

"Hey!" Kyle squirms under him.

"Okay, and I'm good at the 'Make Kyle so Angry that his Face goes Completely Red and his Voice Squeaks Unreasonably High'...game," he smiles.

Kyle mutters and kicks his feet, trying to worm his way out of Stan's arm's hold. "Get off of me you goddamn pussy!"

"Ah but it seems that _you _are the pussy in this moment, my dear boy," Stan smiles sweetly. He seems unfazed at Kyle's attempts to push his arm off and kick his ass, which isn't too surprising considering the size difference of the two of them. If I didn't know Kyle's stance on fidelity, I'd swear these two were together behind my back.

"Ken get him off of me!" Kyle demands, shooting me a look.

"But I love it when your voice gets squeaky," I wink.

They both pause and Stan takes his arm off of Kyle. "Okay, now you made it weird."

I can't help but bust into laughter. "Really. _I'm _the one that made all that weird?"

Kyle sits up and hits Stan's arm, leaning back into me. "Yeah, really, Stan. I haven't even let Kenny hold me down like that for quite some time now," he winks. "I guess we just have that spark, don't we?" he flutters his lashes ridiculously.

"Oh my god, don't even go there," Stan's tongue pushes out of his mouth a bit to contain the bile that the three of us know is slowly rising in his throat.

I look down at Kyle with my best pleading look, and he nods in permission. I smile deviously, wrapping one arm around Kyle's waist and placing my legs around him, pulling him back flush against my stomach. I lean my head on his shoulder and look at Stan, "Hey," I say in a tone that surprisingly gets me a shiver out of the redhead. "If you wanna share, I'll share."

"Dude, stop," he rubs the bridge of his nose. "For the love of God, just stop."

"But Stan," Kyle pouts and I can't help but smile into his shoulder. He's the best goddamn actor in the world when it comes to torturing Stan I swear. "I thought I meant something to you," he puts on his best whiny tone and cocks his head innocently.

I look up and do the same, "We just want you to feel like part of us," I stick my lip out pathetically.

I can't help but feel a surge of pride as Kyle goes for his Hail Mary pass on the poor guy, gently putting his hand on Stan's knee and breathing out hotly, "_Don't you wanna_?"

"NO NO NO NO NO NO!" Stan yells jumping off the bed and pacing around the room, his poor throat making all kinds of sounds and his face screwing up as he tries desperately not to spew. Kyle's concentration finally breaks and he falls back into me, laughing hysterically and I can't help but join him. Poor Stan, the bastard never stood a chance.

"You guys are sick and wrong!" he complains.

"Can't take the heat get outta the bedroom," I smirk. Though the playfulness, I notice, unfortunately got the attention of my little 'friend'. Damn Kyle and that sexy voice of his. I shift uncomfortably but Kyle catches on, feeling me press into the small of his back.

He looks behind at me and shakes his head, "Really?"

"Dude, I'm sorry it's been awhile," I wince.

"Okay nope, I'm out of this," Stan shakes his head. "Going to the bathroom, going to die, goodbye," he wails around dramatically before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

We watch after him for a few moments, both of us unable to contain our laughter before Kyle looks back at me guiltily, pulling out of my hold and sitting himself in front of me.

"Dude, I'm really sorry," he says softly.

"Why the hell should you be sorry?" I raise my brow. "Okay, so, you're sexy and I got a little boner goin' for you, so the fuck what?"

"Well that's not fair to you," he shrugs.

I roll my eyes, "I know how to masturbate, Kyle, it's not like I'm not getting anything out of it."

He grins and shakes his head softly, "Always so tactful."

"Hey, my lack of tact is what got us together," I punch his arm playfully.

"Uh no?" he looks at me incredulously. "If you remember correctly, I didn't even know who you _were _until a few months after we...well you know, got together."

I smirk and nod quickly, "That's true. But admit it," I slide up close to him and place my lips against his neck, feeling a breath hitch in his throat. "You _loved _how forward I was."

His face heats up and he shudders, "I admit to n-nothing," he stammers as my teeth graze the soft crevice of his neck.

"Come on now," I wrap my hand around the small of his back and pull him in closely. He places his hands on my shoulders before cupping my chin and pulling me off with one hand. A sad smile crosses his face and I feel an instant rush of guilt.

"Kenny," he breathes, leaning down and capturing my lips with his own. He turns onto his knees and straddles my lap, his mouth never faltering from mine. My hand snakes around and I lightly cup his ass, pulling his hips against mine.

He breaks from my mouth, leaning his forehead against mine and smiles softly. "Ken, I can't. Not yet."

"I'm not gonna make you do a damn thing you don't want to," I assure him, kissing his chin. "I told you when you got out of the hospital, I would do whatever you needed."

"Then I need you to understand that I _want _to," he insists, "but I just can't..." he looks around his room, focusing particularly on the wall between his bed and window. I look over and can't help but feel my stomach sinking. The window was well replaced now, but it felt so recent that he was getting thrown into it by one of Cartman's fucking cronies. "I can't here. I don't think I _ever _can do that here again," he shakes his head. "I'm so sorry."

"Dude, dude," I laugh a little, trying to break the tension. I wrap my arms around his back and nuzzle into his throat. "When you're ready, you know I won't hesitate to give you what you want," I look up and wink, receiving one of his adorably cute blushes in return. "But until then, I am perfectly fine just thinking about your fine ass and getting my own rocks off."

He shakes his head and snorts, "I'm glad to know that you're not suffering."

"I only suffer when I'm away from you, Baby," I wink.

"You gay-ass."

"You sweet ass," I retort, grabbing and squeezing his playfully. He groans and gets off my lap just as his door bursts open with Stan holding his phone in his palm, looking beyond worried as he speeds towards us.

"Dude," he says to me, "someone's calling you out," he hands me the phone and I stare at it, Kyle peering over my shoulder.

It's open to a news article from a few hours beforehand, a print of a letter sent to the South Park Police department. _'Mysterion,' _it reads. _'We've met before, though you never knew it. We know who you are. We know your secret. We all do and it's time for you to face your destiny. A package will be delivered to you by tomorrow evening, it will be sent to your little friend's home,' _I look at Kyle and he shrugs, his eyes swimming with worry._ 'It will include instructions on where and how you will meet us. Trust us, you do not want to disappoint us. Let's find out together the secret to your imminent deaths. We'll be waiting, Mysterion. -H.'_

Kyle backs up slowly off my shoulder and I blink at the phone screen. "What the fuck..." I whisper.

"Someone...someone knows besides us?" Stan asks, sitting down beside us on the bed. I hand him back his phone and bite my lip.

"I...I don't get it," Kyle shakes his head. "Ken, I mean, we never talked about it before but I just assumed that-"

"No one ever remembers," I say, folding my hands and placing them over my lips. I stare deeply at the ground, my eyebrows furrowed down and my brain racing. "The fact that you two remember is in of itself a miracle."

"Any idea why that is?" Stan asks.

I shake my head, "No. I've been wondering my entire life though. There's something here...I just don't know what. But apparently these people do."

"Maybe it's just a bluff," Kyle offers. "Or it could be a trap."

"Or it could be the answers that I've wanted for my entire life," I reply, looking at him hopelessly. "I feel like the benefits of that outweigh the possible consequences. I mean, if they kill me, so what? I'll be back."

"But they _know _you'll be back," he insists. "What if they found a way to kill you for good?"

"Guess I'll have to find out," I mutter, getting up off the bed and heading over to Kyle's backpack on the floor, tearing my uniform out.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Stan blinks. "They said they'd give you instructions tomorrow."

I start stripping off my clothes and rip off the wig, brushing my hair out of my eyes and working on trying to pull on my stupid purple suit. I'm realizing that I _really _need a wardrobe change. "Yeah, but they know where Kyle lives," I nod up to the redhead. "So obviously they've been watching me. I'm going to go see if I can find them."

I manage to slip into my suit and start pulling on my boots. Kyle walks up and grabs my gloves and cape out of the bag, waiting patiently for me to finish. I grab them out of his hands and pull them each on, giving him a small smile. He fishes my mask out and places it over my face, brushing my hair out of my eyes, "Just be careful," he states quietly.

I grab him and pull him in for a long kiss, hearing Stan groaning in the background. "I'll be back tonight," I promise. I let go of him and run over to the window, throwing it open and hopping out onto the roof. Kyle watches me and nods.

"Be safe."

"Love you," I smile, raising my hood over my head.

"You too."

I turn and bound over his roof, grabbing onto the tree outside his window and sliding my way down. I glance in through the french doors for the kitchen, seeing Sheila and Sharon talking, with Liane standing off to the side and talking as well. I take a deep breath. I hope to god Kyle doesn't need me tonight. But I shake my head. Stan is there and he knows just what Kyle needs, so there's no need to worry myself with that.

I hear a rustling and shoot my head over, seeing a branch further back past the Broflovski's yard shaking. I squint my eyes, it's way too much of a shake to be a fucking squirrel. I growl, quickly slipping in and out of the shadows of the house and the trees towards my target.

I manage to hop over the wooden fence and latch myself onto one of its branches, keeping my head up as I head towards the top. I pause, my stomach sinking as a pair of bright, glowing, blood-red eyes stares back at me. "Who are you?" I demand, finding my footing and hopping onto the same branch.

It looks at me, standing on the limb and I can feel my worry growing. It's got to be at least seven feet tall. It's slender and lithe like a cat, standing there with it's top half dangling backwards. I can't make out any distinguishable features, nothing but shadow and pure, red eyes.

"A-answer me," I stutter, my heart racing in my chest.

"_Shhhhhh,_" it puts a long, thin finger up to where I suppose its mouth is supposed to be. "_Soon." _The voice is low and grating, sounding like a chorus of echoes deep in the night.

"Soon what?" I demand, trying really fucking hard not to show how goddamn terrified of this thing I am.

It just stares at me before seeping backwards off the limb. I watch in horror as it doesn't fall, but melts into the ground, it's body changing into what I can only relate to a bucket of tar, sinking into the shadows of the night. I jump down to the ground, running my hand over where it landed, finding nothing more than dried grass and dirt.

I blink slowly, standing up before hearing another rustle, watching as the grass beneath me begins to divert in a sporadic line, like a mouse running through a field. I begin to follow it before it speeds up and zooms off ahead of me, leading me deeper into the backwoods. I try desperately to be able to see it in the breaks of moonlight between the trees, but before I know it, I've lost the track completely.

I pant, looking around at the evergreens towering above me and grate my lip between my teeth. "What the fuck was that?!" I ask, crossing my arms and glancing around.

Well now I know for certain, whoever sent me that message wasn't kidding around. They know their supernatural bullshit. But was that..._thing _what sent me it? Or is that just something they have to spy on me?

I furrow my brow, kicking at the dust angrily for losing the creature. My ears perk as I hear a woman's scream off in the distance towards town. I sigh, turning on my heel and booking it through the trees as quickly as I can towards it. I guess I'll just have to wait until tomorrow to figure out what the fuck is happening. For now, Kenny can't be worried about what the future holds, Mysterion has a job to do.

* * *

_**A/N: I told you I'd get to the better stuff. Sure it was just a quick taste but we'll definitely get there.**_

_**And yes the beginning dialogue seems fillerish but it serves its purpose in the end. I promise /loves on**_

_**Thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: This is a short chapter for you all before we get to the meatier...portion sort of in the next chap. Yeah. I'm so bad at this idek what I'm doing T_T**_

_**Enjoy~**_

* * *

I finally make my way back towards the Broflovski's home at around four a.m. My legs are killing me, my back is locked up, and goddamn am I tired. People in this town really are utterly clueless about how to save themselves. A woman getting mugged, a kid getting lost, a gas station being robbed...just another typical night I suppose.

I come up around the back of the house and sigh, looking tiredly up towards Kyle's window before starting to scale my way up the tree. I can't help but shudder as that _thing _flashes through my mind again. It's been tracking me all night, I can feel it. I could just feel its empty red eyes staring at me as I made my way through my patrols.

It was not a particularly pleasant feeling to be sure.

I fumble my way up onto the roof, peering inside the window. I can't help but smirk. Stan is conked out on the floor, Kyle on his bed, a book against his chest and his glasses still situated on his face. I start shimmying the window up, grunting a bit at the weight. Damn Kyle's parents and these fucking enforced panels of bullshittery.

I manage to eek it up enough that I can jump into the room, my boots hitting the floor with a heavy 'thud'. I shoot my head over as Stan somehow springs into action. He grabs a baseball bat from under Kyle's bed and hops to his feet, stumbling in his sudden awakening.

"Whoa, dude," I hiss. "It's me!"

He blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes. He looks down at Kyle, still sleeping, and back to me and shrugs. "Sorry, Dude," he yawns. "All that talk about whoever sent you that letter got me all jumpy."

I nod, closing the window and beginning to strip off my uniform. "I hear you," I mumble, working my way down to my boxers and stuffing my uniform back into Kyle's backpack. Stan tosses me my shirt and I slip it on, letting out a long yawn and stretching.

"Long night?" he asks, sitting back on the floor in his mess of blankets.

I nod, "So fucking long," I groan, making my way over to the bed and sitting down beside Kyle. I carefully reach over, slowly taking off his glasses and prying his book from his grasp. He groans, his eyebrows furrowing and his hands grabbing around. He finds my shirt and holds it tight, his head working its way over into my lap.

Stan snorts, "What a homo."

I laugh and nod. "Whatever. He's my homo." I look down at him and my face falls. "So how'd everything go over here?"

"Surprisingly not very bad," Stan says. "I mean, Sheila got a little emotional once Liane left but while she was here, it was actually somewhat pleasant."

I quirk my brow, "really? Wow."

He nods, "I mean you could _definitely _feel the tension in there, but fuck, Kyle just blew through it like no tomorrow."

"Well he's had a lot of practice dealing with that kind of tension," I shrug. I look down on the redhead briefly and back to Stan. "Probably exhausted the fuck out of him though."

"Probably."

"Did they say anything about Kyle moving out?"

Stan shakes his head, "They said they still have to talk about it. Ky told 'em no rush but you could tell that if they gave him the get-go, he'd be out that door in half a second flat."

I shrug, bringing my hand up and entangling it in Kyle's hair, petting through it softly, "Could you blame him?"

"Absolutely not," he says tiredly. "Oh, also, if Sheila or Gerald asks, your friend Tony was in a car accident and you went to check on him."

"Pft, was that another Kyle name?" I chuckle.

"Yep. Him and his gay-ass imagination," he rolls his eyes and lies back on the ground. I watch him for a moment before reaching over and switching off Kyle's lamp. I lift up the redhead a bit, listening to him whine as Stan laughs at his sounds. I just smirk, worming my way down under the covers and lying him back down on my chest. He makes a contented noise, his fingers tangled in my shirt and his head nuzzling down into me.

"Gaayyyyy," Stan teases drowsily.

I chuckle, putting a hand behind my head and the other gently underneath Kyle, stroking his back. I stare up at the ceiling and sigh. I can still see the glow of that thing's eyes, like it's staring at me from Kyle's ceiling. It's almost terrifying, but I'm damn glad now that Kyle has to have a nightlight anymore. I wish I could just get to later already. Do these people really know who I am? Hell, _what _I am? Are there others like me? Or were Kyle and Stan right? What if this is just a trap? What if I'm walking into a goddamn science experiment where they'll just kill me over and over to see if one sticks?

I sigh. There's a lot potentially at stake here, but I don't see much of an option.

"_Nooo..." _Kyle moans quietly, digging his head into my chest and squeezing the hell out of my side. I look down at him and Stan sits up, doing the same. We watch as he twitches, his teeth grating and breath rapidly hissing through his teeth.

"Oh boy," I murmur, stroking his back. "Shhh," I say. "You're okay..."

He violently jerks and ends up punching me in the chest and I cough, holding over the wounded spot. _Christ_, can he hit.

"Jesus," Stan gets back to his feet, shaking the sleep out of his eyes and watching him with me. He catches Kyle's wrist before it hits me again and his face falls as Kyle lets out a long cry. His thin brows furrow, we can see his eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids.

"Kyle, Kyle," I say, turning over and sitting up beside him. "Kyle, wake up," I shake him and he groans, thrashing his head a bit. "Come on," I urge. "Kyle, it's Ken and Stan. It's just us," I bite my lip. His eyes shoot open and he shoves against me, sending me sprawling out of the bed onto the floor on Stan's foot. I groan, my face buried in the carpet and my nose throbbing.

"Dude, you okay?" Stan asks, pulling me up to my feet.

I ignore him, holding my nose and looking at Kyle worriedly. He sits there, panting, his eyes darting between the two of us in his awakened confusion before his shoulders droop and he looks down embarrassedly. "Sorry," he croaks out, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"Dude, dude, no," I shake my head, sitting on the bed and Stan following suit. "You're fine."

"No, no I'm not," he groans, holding his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "Fuck I'm a mess."

"You're not a mess," Stan says firmly, rubbing his back comfortingly. "You had a bad dream. It happens, Dude."

"Every fucking night?" he asks tiredly. "Fuck I'm so goddamn sick of this..."

"You do this every night?" Stan asks. "Dude, you never told us that."

He shrugs, brushing hair out of his eyes. "Never really wanted to." He looks up at me pitifully. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I smile at him a bit. "You have a hell of an arm though."

He bites his lip and looks between the two of us. A part of me can still see the glazed-over fear in his eyes and I can feel my heart just sinking. I hate that look. I _never _wanted to see that look again. I reach over and gently pull him to my side, clasping him in a hug. He hangs limply from me and sighs, his hand coming up and playing with his curls. Stan watches the two of us and I can feel his concern hanging between us. He's had no problem telling me his worries of the two of us being together. After all, while _everyone _is a reminder to Kyle of the past, who the hell would be more of one than myself? I know he's right, but I also know myself and Kyle. He's convinced that I saved him, I'm the one _good _thing that came out of the mess. And me? Well I just know that I can't leave him alone. Never have been able to, and I don't plan on starting unless the boy in my arms tells me otherwise.

"Anything we can do, Ky?" Stan asks softly.

He shakes his head. "No. No it'll go away. I'm fine."

Stan and I look at each other briefly. He's the furthest thing from fine, but there's not much we can do about it at this point.

"I think..." he continues and we direct our attention back on him. "I think it was just...seeing _her _again," he winces. "I don't know, I think it just got to me more than I thought it would."

"Hey, you took a chance, Dude," I shrug. "You're working on getting there."

"Yeah..." he nods.

"Kyle that's a hell of a step for you," Stan adds. "You're doing a _lot _better than anyone thought you would."

"Hm," he muses, sitting up off of me and looking out the window thoughtfully. I watch his fingers curl around each other, his chest gently rising and falling as he stares out into the darkness.

"He's right, ya know," I say softly, rubbing his leg. "It's only going to get better from here."

He looks at me with an exhausted expression, his face falling into a gentle smile. "I hope you're right." He sighs and shakes his head lightly. "Did you find anyone while you were out tonight?"

I look between the two staring at me and briefly consider my options. Lying to them would only lead to them finding out down the road, I'm not fucking stupid, that's just how these things tend to go. But I'm not entirely sure that Kyle can deal with his own demons plus mine. But I have no idea what the hell I saw. Maybe they can convince me that I imagined it. Maybe they've seen this thing before. And it hasn't touched us yet, there's a chance that it still won't. "I...yeah," I finally break and nod my head.

"Who were they?" Stan asks, shifting and sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, facing the two of us.

"Well...I don't even think that _it _was anything," I wince.

They share a brief glance before turning back towards me. "It?" Kyle repeats. "What are you talking about, Kenny?"

I sigh, leaning back against Kyle's headboard and staring at the ceiling. "What I found...it wasn't human," I shake my head slowly.

"What, like, an animal?" Stan questions.

"No. Nothing like that. I don't know _what _it was."

"Well what did it look like?" Kyle places his hand on my shoulder. I snort a little at our change of positions.

"It was...like a shadow," I say slowly. "But it was obviously something real. It had these...pure red eyes. You know those stupid pictures people draw where it's just some black figure with blank eyes?" They both nod. "It looked like that. And it didn't...move right."

"Was it bipedal orrr...?" Kyle urges.

"The fuck is bi-"

"Did it walk on two legs?" he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I never saw it walk. But it was standing. And it was huge, I mean like, seven or eight feet tall!" I exclaim, raising my arm above my head.

"Whaddya mean it didn't move right, though?" Stan asks.

"Okay, so, we're standing in this tree, right?" I lick my lips, looking at them and finding my words fumbling and flying out of my mouth. "And it's like, leaning back," I demonstrate slightly. "But it looked all contorted. Then it goes to get off the branch, but, it's not...falling or jumping or anything, it fucking _melts."_

"Melts?" Kyle narrows his eyes. "The fuck kind of shadow just melts?"

"That's what I'm saying! I mean, it literally just dripped onto the ground," I say. "And it didn't come back the way it was. It just was in the ground. Then I saw it, like, super tiny going through the grass. I tried to catch up with it but it was so dark I couldn't see it," I pout.

Kyle leans back, crossing his arms and looking down in thought. "Did it speak at all?"

"I asked it what the fuck it was and it said _'soooon',_" I raise my fingers, wriggling them and trying to convey the sound of the thing as best I can. "I mean fuck, it had this grating voice. It sounded like it was twenty people trying to say it together."

Stan blinks at me, "Holy shit, Dude. Are you sure?"

"Stan, trust me," I say dryly. "Doing the whole superhero thing? You learn real fast to remember all your details."

He gulps and nods, "I'm pretty sure you found what's been watching you, then."

"Yeah. The problem is, when I meet these fuckers later, is it going to be a group of those things? Did they make it? It's giving me a goddamn headache trying to figure out just what I'm up against."

"It sounds like if there is a group of those," he starts, "maybe you should reconsider seeing them. They could be really dangerous."

"But then if I _don't _go," I counter, "then maybe I'll be in danger anyway, and they know who Kyle is so maybe it'll go after him, too," I gesture towards the redhead. "I can't take that chance and you damn well know it."

He bites his lip and nods. "Well...I'll go with you to it," he says firmly. "There's something really fishy about this whole thing."

I frown, "Dude, you really think that's a good idea? I'm going to assume, just from cliches alone, that the phrase 'come alone' is going to be in their instructions."

"Well, we'll find a way around it," he assures me. "There's no way that you should be going there alone." I can't help but smile gratefully. Stan's still my back-up man, so I guess I have a lot to thank him for. I know he'd jump out and rescue me if it came down to it.

I look over to Kyle, who's still staring at the bed, his finger stroking over his chin thoughtfully. "Kyle?" I ask.

"Hm?"

"What's on your mind?" I ask worriedly.

He looks over at me and then to his best friend. "Stan, can you do me a favor?"

"Y-yeah?"

"In the closet, there's a book that's bright red, it's hardback and has weird golden symbols on the side of it. Can you grab it?"

"Yeah, sure," he nods. He hops off the bed, walking over and turning the overhead light on as we all squint at the sudden invasion. We watch as he opens Kyle's closet, a mountain of books sitting on the floor. He turns back and blinks at the redhead.

Kyle shrugs, "Dude. I've been on lockdown for a long ass time. I paid Ike to store everything in there since well...you know." He blushes and I slowly reach over and take hold of his hand.

Stan turns back, scanning and digging through the books. "Goddamn you read all of these?"

"You know I have nothing better to do with my time," he sighs, leaning back against the headboard with me, squeezing my fingers gently.

"Hey at least reading is something you like to do, right?" I offer with a wince.

He snorts, looking at me and shaking his head. "Yeah. I love living up to still being a goddamn nerd."

"You're a cute nerd, though," I wink, leaning over and giving him a peck on the lips.

"Knock it off, you two. It's way too late for that shit," Stan groans from the closet.

"As many times as I watched you literally fondle Wendy's tits you have absolutely no ground to stand on, Dickcheese," Kyle scoffs.

"Yeah, but Wendy isn't one of your best friends," he chuckles, sorting through the mess. "You think it's weird with just one? Try when it's both of 'em. It really fucks with you after awhile."

"Gee, thanks," I roll my eyes. "Nice to be an inconvenience for you."

"Ya always have been," he laughs. He grabs a book and holds it up for Kyle to see. "This it, Dude?"

Kyle nods and Stan tosses it onto the bed, shutting the closet behind him. I glance down at the cover of the book and raise my brow. "'Mythos of the Occult?'"

"Yep," he says, flipping it open at the back and scanning through. "Hand me my glasses, will ya?"

I do so, still confused as all hell as he slides them on his face. "Uh, why do you have a book about the Occult?"

He shrugs, "It's an interesting subject. I mean fuck, I have the Bible of Satanism in there somewhere," he waves his hand towards the closet. "Can you imagine if my mother saw that in my hands?" he chuckles.

"'_It's an interesting subject_,'" Stan mocks, sitting back down on the bed and snorting. "God you are such a fucking dweeb."

He glances up and quirks his brow. "Hey. I don't see _you _doing anything to solve Kenny's problem, so shut the fuck up."

"How the living hell is this supposed to help me?" I ask, watching him flip through pages.

"Because...," he sticks his tongue out a bit, running his finger down along the page. "I swear I saw what you were describing in here before. Slips in and out of shadows, the eyes, the height...Ah ha!" he proclaims. "Is this what you saw?" he asks, pointing to a drawn image in his book.

I shake my head excitedly, "Dude, yes! That looks just like it! The long ass arms, the skinniness, everything!"

"Well what is it?" Stan cocks his head.

"It's called a Shadower," Kyle answers.

"How fucking creative," I snort. "If they make a monster out of water, is it the Wetterer?"

"Hush," Kyle slaps my arm. "Apparently it's a demon that's summoned, usually by a group called the Grey Brothers."

"The Grey Brothers?" Stan repeats, narrowing his eyes.

He nods, "They're a group that actively participates in black magic. Apparently, a shadower can either be summoned or appear on its own, however the latter is far less likely."

"How would it appear on it's own?" I ask.

"Supposedly, a shadower can either be a previously living person or a demon. If it's a person, then usually the spirit is calm and collective, in fact, the people who see them often associate them with that, saying that seeing them didn't frighten them at all. Pretty weird for seeing essentially a ghost right?" We both nod slowly. "Anyway, the one you're talking about sounds to me like it was summoned through black magic. Now, it gets even more strange, because now we have two very distinct possibilities if this is all true."

"Like what?"

He looks up at me, tipping his glasses on the edge of his nose. "You didn't see anyone else with it? No one at all?"

"Not a goddamn thing."

"Hm. Well...," he looks back. "This could be either a good thing or a bad thing."

"How can it be good, Dude. Kenny's saying it was a goddamn demon!" Stan exclaims.

"Yes, but what matters isn't the demon itself in this scenario," he says, taking his glasses off and twirling them in his hand. "What matters is what he was summoned for, what his purpose is."

"Well," I lean back, crossing my arms, "I'm thinkin' to stalk me."

He shakes his head, "Not what I mean. I mean, was it summoned with good or bad intentions? Because both can be summoned, but it requires a different type of magician to do it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Stan blinks.

He sighs. "Okay, so, long story short. You have two different kinds of basic magicians within the Occult: white and black. The white only summons for a benevolent reason, such as protecting someone or whatnot. A _black _magician, however, uses the arts for his own self-gain. He usually makes a deal with the Devil for control over his powers. So, now, the question is, do these people actually want to help you, or are they after you for something?" He looks up at me.

I stare back down, my tongue running over my lips. "Dude I...I have no fucking idea."

"That letter they sent sounded pretty threatening," Stan points out. "I really don't think that they're doing this for your benefit."

"Well, maybe they think that unlocking the secret to Ken's powers could lead to the benefit of mankind," Kyle shrugs. "They know as well as we do that it's something that's powerful and we shouldn't tamper with. If they were too vague, maybe they thought that Ken wouldn't show up."

Stan pauses, nodding slowly. "Well...I guess that could make sense." He glances up at me, "What do you think, Ken?"

I stare at Kyle's comforter and narrow my eyes in frustration. They're both potentially right. This just seems like way too much to take in right now. "I think...I need some sleep," I fall back exhaustedly. "All this talk about demons and magic and shit...Goddamn I am just so fucking tired."

Kyle shuts his book, looking at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Dude. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no," I shake my head, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. "It's not you. This is just a lot to try to understand. And I don't think I'm going to until we actually go see whoever the fuck is sending that thing after me."

They nod in agreement and Stan hops off the bed. He grabs my wig from the desk chair and throws it onto my lap. "You may wanna sleep in it," he suggests. "You never know if his parents will walk in."

I sigh, bringing it up and stuffing my hair into the damnable thing. I glance over, seeing Kyle looking at me worriedly. "What?"

"I...," he hesitates before sighing, leaning over me and putting his book and glasses on his nightstand. "I just hope that it's for the better side, you know? I don't want you fighting magic bullshit."

"Hey. I _am _magic bullshit," I chuckle. Stan shuts off the lights and we all settle down into our beds. Kyle and I curl up against each other under the covers, our foreheads touching lightly.

"You're a good magic, though."

"Corny fag," I roll my eyes.

He scoffs, hitting the side of my head. "No, you idiot. I meant it _literally_. Your powers or magic or whatever you call them is something that's really awesome. Immortality sounds pretty bitchin'."

"It ain't all its cracked up to be," I laugh softly, entangling him in my arms.

"Whaddya mean?" Stan yawns.

"We'll talk about it when we wake up," I say tiredly. "Trust me...it's hard to explain." I look down at Kyle, seeing him looking up at me concernedly in the moonlight. I lean forward and plant my lips on his forehead. "I promise, we'll talk about it when I have the energy, okay?"

He nods, nuzzling his face into my chest and wrapping his arm around my waist. I take a deep breath, looking down out the window tiredly. If Kyle's right...this is just too fucking crazy for me to wrap my brain around. But hell, if this is hard for me, I can only imagine how confused the two of them are at my little dying spells. I lean my chin down into Kyle's hair, taking another breath and letting his scent calm my nerves. Nothing about this seems right, nothing seems real. It's like an old, dark fairy tale starting to take place in front of my eyes. My brain can't seem to catch up to me at this point, my entire body seems to be falling whim to the echoes of sleep. I feel Kyle tighten around me and a color catches my eye as I start to drift off with him in my arms. My eyes barely make sense of glowing red orbs right outside the window before finally, my body gives out on me, and I fall prey to sleep, that grating voice echoing in my head.

_Soon._

* * *

_**A/N: Ugh this is taking a lot of research and now my damn history looks like I'm a goddamn psychopath looking up all this dark stuff. I hope I don't die and people look at it and go "wtf". Bitch Ima writer. It's what we do.**_

_**Hope you guys are having fun with this so far with me :D Remember, y'all UM was an AU, so this one is, too. But I will be taking elements from the Mysterion Rises arc of the show later on in the story. We'll get there my pets, I promise.**_

_**Thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Ah more filler-ish time for you all. Then we'll start divin' in here. At least that's the theory. A Fanfic Theory. Thanks for watching.**_

_**You guys should totes watch Game Theory on Youtube if you haven't I'm just saying.**_

_**Enjoy~**_

* * *

The morning rolled around all too soon as Kyle's door opened and Sheila's voice greeted us into the world of the living. "Boys?" she calls out. Kyle and I creak our eyes open into each other's and slowly turn, looking towards the door.

"What's up, Mrs. B?" Stan yawns, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Boys, can you get up and come talk to us? Your parents are back, Stanley and they want to talk as well," she smiles gently. She glances up at Kyle and I and shakes her head. "You know, Bubbie, you could have at least _asked _if Brandon could share the bed with you."

He groans and slaps his hand over his eyes. "Ma, Stan shares the bed with me if he ever sleeps over, and it's not like we'd do anything with him there on the floor," he gestures down.

"And I thank you for that," Stan rolls his eyes, yawning and stretching tiredly.

"Hurry up," she says before shutting the door and walking off.

I groan, managing to push myself off of Kyle's mattress and sit up, blinking at the wall and smacking my lips. I turn to the redhead next to me as he does the same and smile. "You seemed to sleep better," I comment.

He looks at me and shrugs, "I think having you there helped, to be honest," he shakes out his hair a bit.

"Well then, I'll be sure to sleep next to you every night," I purr, leaning down and capturing his lips.

"Dudes, come _on,_" Stan pleads. "I just got up, I don't want to deal with your make-outs right now."

"Stop being a dick," Kyle says as he pulls from my lips. He pats my leg, "Come on, let's see what the hell they want now."

I sigh, swinging my feet over and hopping off the bed. I stand on my toes and stretch towards the ceiling as Kyle stands beside me, moving over to his dresser and grabbing clothes. "I don't have any jeans that fit you, dude," he looks back at me. "I have shirts, though."

"Whatever you have is fine. You and your damn short legs," I roll my eyes theatrically. He just glares a bit before throwing a black t-shirt at my head.

"Shut up and change, you dickwad," he scoffs.

I smirk, doing so as the two of them follow suit. I glance out the window as I pull my pants up my hips, a part of me expecting to see that thing back and staring at me. I vaguely recall our conversation from last night. Shadowers and Occult and whatnot...it just seems way too weird to be true. I jolt a bit as Kyle reaches up at my head. "What's up?"

"Your wig is all over the place," he laughs, fixing it up on my hair.

"Well yours ain't much better," I tease, running my fingers through his wild curls. He rolls his eyes, turning from me and grabbing a brush from his dresser, quickly pulling it through his hair.

"What do you think they want?" Stan asks. "And why do _my _parents want to be here for it?"

"Probably installing a new fucking door code," Kyle mutters, managing to fix his hair just enough to slam his ushanka over it. His fingers fumble with his bangs and he lets out a long sigh. "I don't know, after last night, I'm sure it's my mom having another mental breakdown."

"I thought last night went well?" I raise my brow, slipping on my tennis shoes and staring at Kyle.

He looks back at me, leaning against his dresser. "It wasn't _terrible_, per se, but it definitely wasn't going to make it on the cover of 'Better Housekeeping' or some shit. When Liane left my mom just...," he pauses, gesturing his arms over the floor. "I don't know, fell apart."

"Well, it was hard for her to let Liane into her house after everything," Stan comments. "I thought she managed pretty well when she was actually here."

"Ah, that's because you don't know my mother," he scoffs. "Did you not hear her little tone? That tone has, on more than one occasion, scared the hell out of me enough to tell the truth for whatever I was doing."

"That's every one of your mom's tones for you, you pussy," I smirk.

He looks at me and glares, "Fuck off. Anyway, she was trying to get Liane to break. It was fucking insane."

"Didn't seem that way to me," Stan shrugs.

"Because you haven't been raised in the foray that is my mother's unquenchable thirst for vengeance," he chuckles softly.

He blinks at him and shakes his head, "You and your big words. Come on," he jerks his head back to Kyle's door. "Let's see what they want."

I walk up beside Kyle, kissing his temple lightly before we all start filing out. Kyle's hands reach back and grasp mine softly and I squeeze him back. Too much on our minds right now to be dealing with a lecture, that's for damn sure. We slowly descend the stairs, hearing their parents in the midst of a discussion and exchange glances.

We make our way into the living room and the four of them smile up at us. "Morning boys!" Sharon says cheerfully.

"Good...morning?" Stan narrows his eyes at his parents. "Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, boys," Randy says, tipping a glass of orange just in our direction. "Come on, sit," he stands from the couch along with Sharon and Sheila. The three of us look at each other worriedly before doing so, Kyle in the middle of the two of us. I wrap my arm around Kyle's shoulders, feeling the strange need to protect him even though I damn well know he's not in any kind of danger. Physically, anyway.

We watch the four in front of us before Gerald clears his throat. "All right, so I'm guessing you're all confused right now judging by your faces."

"Well yeah," Kyle raises his brow. "I feel like we're in front of the firing squad."

"No, of course not, Bubbie," Sheila says before walking off into the kitchen. We watch after her confusedly as she comes back out handing us each a plate of scrambled eggs.

"Uh...th-thanks, Mrs. Broflovski," I blink.

Stan and Kyle shrug and they each take a bite. "Are you buttering us up for something?" Stan asks. "Need us to repair a car or take Ike up to Canada or something?"

"No no, nothing like that," Sharon shakes her head.

"Kyle, we've been talking about what you said last night," Gerald says. "About moving?" Kyle's fork stops halfway to his mouth and he stares at his parents.

"Y-yeah?"

"And well...I think we've come up with a solution that will make everyone here happy. However, there will have to be some compromises."

"Dude, what?" he asks, grabbing my hand over his shoulder.

"How would the three of you like to have your own apartment?" he smiles.

The three of us look at each other in shock. "I-I don't have money," I shake my head.

"I only have like, $300," Kyle adds.

"I don't even have a bank account," Stan scratches behind his ear.

"No, no, boys," he chuckles, sitting down on the armrest beside me. "I have a client who I helped out in a civil case a few months back who owns an apartment complex. He said he owed me a favor, so we talked to him this morning and we can get you one for a pretty great price."

"Dude!" Stan exclaims.

"We'd be more than willing to foot the bill for awhile, boys," Sharon adds. "That way Kyle isn't here, Stan isn't constantly worried about him," she smirks at Stan who blushes. "And then Brandon has an actual home."

"Wait, wait," Kyle interjects, his eyes narrowing. "This sounds _too _good to be true. What are your compromises?"

"Our compromises for Stan and Brandon are pretty simple: be looking for jobs. You don't have to find one right away, but prove to us that you're at least applying," Randy shrugs.

"Also," Sharon continues, "We'd like Stan to be applying for college. We know you were looking at the community one downtown, Stan. And now with Kyle living with you, you have absolutely no excuses. Your education is much too important to withhold just because you feel like you need to always know where he is."

Stan blushes and shrugs at Kyle, who looks at him with a shaking head. "Dude I told you that last year. You're an idiot."

He frowns a bit, "Hey, forgive me for looking out for my best friend, Dickhole."

"Boys, come on now," Sharon chuckles.

Kyle slowly looks up at his parents and a frown plays on his lips. "And myself?" he asks dryly.

Gerald and Sheila look at each other and clear their throats. "Bubbie, yours is a little more...complicated."

"How so?" he grits his teeth. I squeeze his hand and pull him in against my side, taking a bite of my food. If I don't shove something in there god only knows what the hell I'll say.

"Kyle," Gerald looks around awkwardly. "We know that you're trying to get better. Trust us, we can tell."

"But honey, you need to talk to someone about it," Sheila breaks in.

He raises his brow, "I...I talk to Stan and Bra-"

"No, Bubbeleh," she shakes her head. "We want you to go see a therapist. Once a week, that's it. Because we don't know how to help you and maybe they do."

Stan and I look at each other then down at the redhead. A part of me is absolutely terrified of his silence. We both know Kyle. We know how much trouble he has talking to people about his problems, especially lately. Talking to _strangers _about it? He was more likely to run off with the circus than admit his faults like that.

"...All right," he says quietly and Stan and I jerk back in shock.

"Ky, are you sure?" Stan asks. "Dude, you've always said that therapists are no good assholes."

"Well maybe I _need _one of those no good assholes," he looks at him exhaustively. "Stan, Dude, I'm so tired of this. Maybe talking to someone who isn't like you or Brandon and isn't just willing to tell me how fucking 'strong' I am," he rolls his eyes, "would be a good thing."

"...I hate to tell you this but they probably will, too," he laughs softly. "And you have to pay them for that."

"If they can get me to sleep without shoving people off of the bed then what the fuck ever," he sighs, leaning back into me. I hold up my fork to his lips and he takes the bite, shooting me a smile as he chews.

"I'm proud of you," I wink. He shakes his head, leaning against my shoulder and looking back at our audience.

"Anything else?" he asks his parents.

"Once a week you have to all come over to either our or the Marsh's house for dinner," Gerald smirks. "Obviously that was a condition your mothers came up with."

"Well excuse us for loving our children," Sharon scoffs playfully.

"So I'm guessing this apartment is in town?" Stan asks, a mouthful of egg.

"Yep. Actually it's a townhouse. I saw it when I was working with the owner. It's pretty nice," Gerald shrugs.

"I'm sorry but-" the words just stumble out of my mouth and they all shoot their heads towards me and I gulp. "I...I don't know if I'm comfortable with you just...giving me a home," I wince.

'_What the hell are you doing?'_ Kyle mouths. I kiss his forehead and look back up at the parents.

"I...I've never been too fond of charity." I have no fucking idea where this is coming from, and apparently, neither do Stan or Kyle. However I know that I've _always _felt guilty just coming over to their houses and taking food or whatnot. They never seemed to mind, but damn does it make you feel like a sack of shit when you get giddy over a peanut butter sandwich.

"It's not charity, Son," Randy walks up and puts a hand on my shoulder. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with accepting a little help, though."

"And you make my Kyle so happy," Sheila gushes. "When I saw you outside yesterday he had a smile on his face! Do you know how long it's been since I've seen him with a real smile?"

Kyle blushes and places his face down in his hand with a groan. "Oh my god, Mom."

"We figure that's two birds with one stone, Kyle is happy and you aren't on the streets," Gerald shrugs. "Unless you two aren't comfortable with already living toget-"

"We're fine with it!" Kyle interjects suddenly. I look down at him and blink and his blush spreads throughout his face. "Uh...if...if you are?" he winces embarrassedly.

I snort, squeezing him in tighter against me and nod. "Yeah, yeah I'd be just fine with that."

Stan chuckles and shakes his head, "I'm the one not comfortable with the two of you living together."

"Stan, don't be a homophobe," Randy lectures.

"Oh for God's sake, Dad, I didn't mean it like that. I mean," he gestures to my arm around him, "I'd just have to deal with their touchy-feely crap all day."

"And I'm sure Wendy will never ever be over," Kyle smirks at him.

"Well, Dude, she ain't livin' there," he pushes his arm, laughing as Kyle shoves him back.

"It'll be about a week before we can move you guys in," Sharon says, smiling down at the three of them, before focusing on Kyle. "Is that all right?"

He nods, "Honestly, I wasn't expecting anything to come out of this, so yeah, I can definitely deal with a little time in-between."

"That's my bubbie," Sheila moves over, locking him in a hug. He groans and lets himself fall limp in her chokehold, looking at me with unamused eyes.

"Awww," I can't help but tease. "Kylie-poo loves his mommyyyy," I sing. He flips me off with a scowl, dropping it quickly as his mom pulls back from him.

"Of course he does," she boasts. She looks at me and smiles before grabbing me in a hug as well. I yelp as she pulls me against her shoulder. "And now _you _get the same treatment."

"Ha haaa," he back-mocks. I look at him and stick my tongue out and he smirks, rolling his eyes. They fall towards the window and his face drops. Stan and I frown, following his gaze, seeing a dark figure quickly heading away from the door. Sheila lets go of me and smiles at me proudly.

"You're going to make something good out of all of this, I can tell," she pats my head. "My Kyle would only be with someone who has the ambition to make it as far as they can."

"Ma, now is not the goddamn time for bragging about me," Kyle groans. "Mind if we all take a walk?" he stands up and Stan and I follow.

"N-no?" Sharon asks. "Boys, is everything all right?"

"Definitely, Mom," Stan smiles and leans up, kissing her cheek. She looks taken aback by his action and he shrugs sheepishly, "We're just really happy how this is all working out is all, but I can tell that Kyle needs to let his brain wrap around it." Kyle shakes his head at him and rolls his eyes.

She smiles, kissing his cheek back and nodding. "All right. Be careful out there."

"Will do," I nod, taking the lead and feeling the two of them following quickly behind me. I open the front door, seeing a box with a large question mark on it. I push it aside with my foot, out of the view of the parents and let Kyle and Stan step out beside me. Stan closes the door and we all look down on the box before looking at the street back and forth, searching for the figure we saw.

"Good thing they'd already woken us up," Stan says softly. I reach down and pick up the box, feeling the weight in my hands.

"Where should we open it?" Kyle asks softly.

"Starks," I say with a nod, starting to quickly make my way down the sidewalk with them in tow.

"Why Starks?" Stan raises his brow.

"Something's just telling me that's the best place to go," I murmur. "It's pretty secluded, lord knows I don't need anyone figuring me out." I look down at Kyle who finally caught up to my side. "Kyle, are you sure you wanna go?"

He narrows his eyes, "What? Why wouldn't I?"

"Well...Starks is...where..." I bite my lip.

"Oh," he realizes before clearing his throat. Kyle was dragged into those woods. I don't know if he can handle that and I don't want to prove Stan right by giving him a reason to freak out. "Dude, I'm concerned about _you,_" he says. "If we have to go back to that motherfucking warehouse I will if it means we figure out who the hell is after you." He gives me a determined look and I can't help but smile crookedly at him, leaning down mid-stride and pressing my lips against his.

"We playing role-reversal now?" I chuckle.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he frowns.

I loop my arm around him and laugh, "Will you be our hero this time?"

He rolls his eyes and pushes into me with his shoulder as we cross the street heading towards the pond. "I'm not wearing your faggy tights."

"You _love _those faggy tights and don't you ever deny it," I scoff.

Stan shakes his head at us and sighs, "You two are so damn weird."

"How?" Kyle looks over at him.

He shrugs, "I dunno. But, like I said last night, seeing the two of you together is still just surreal. It's like, I've known you two motherfuckers all my life and now all of a sudden you're kissing and shit. It's just weird."

"It can't be _that _weird, can it?" he winces.

He chuckles, "Okay, imagine for a second that I'm the one that Kenny had his nasty arm around."

"Well I'd kill you for one thing," he says dryly.

"No dumbass, I mean, what if I'm the one that he fell in love with," he bats his eyes mockingly. "If you saw the two of us getting all handsy and kissy and crap, you have to admit, it'd be strange to watch."

I smirk, "Stan, just admit you're hot for me. Come on. There's no shame."

His face distorts and he shudders, "Ugh. Yeah, no. I love you two but I swear if either one of you tries to be all relationshipy with me I might just vomit so hard my eyeballs pop out."

Kyle and I laugh a bit before Kyle says, "Dude, I get it. But come on."

"Yeah. We ain't nearly as handsy as I'd prefer it." Kyle looks up at me with a sad glint in his eyes and I sigh, kissing his head. "Dude, you know that's not what I meant."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Stan narrows his eyes a bit.

"You haven't told him? Really?" I blink at him. "Dude you tell him _everything._"

"Not everything, you ass," he rolls his eyes.

"Fill me in here?" Stan urges.

"We haven't had sex since the whole thing," Kyle mutters, staring at the ground as we move onto the grass.

He's silent for a moment before he looks at me with a smile. "Dude. That's awesome."

"How the _fuck _is that awesome?" Kyle swats his arm.

He shakes his head, "No dude, no. Don't take it that way," he laughs. "But no I never expected Kenny of all people to not be...err..."

"Pushy?" I guess.

He nods, "Yeah, yeah pushy!"

"Are we really discussing my boundaries in the bedroom right now?" Kyle growls with a blush. "Dude, come on."

"Nah, man, it's cool," he shrugs. "We're supposed to talk about this stuff anyway. Best friends and all that bullshit," he smirks down at him. "How many of my escapades have I told you about?"

"And how many have I asked you _not _to tell me about?" he snorts.

I'm silent for a moment, looking at the two of them smiling at each other and sigh a bit. I hate the fact that these two, while my best friends, were never as close to me as they were to each other. Hell, even saying Kyle is as close to me now is a stretch. I shudder a bit, remembering that I considered Cartman to be my best friend for a long damn time. Until I saw him starting to spy on Kyle the way he was though. As soon as I caught that in the act, there was no way in hell I could bring myself to really closely associate with that psychopath.

"You all right?" Kyle looks up at me in concern.

I nod, squeezing him a bit. "Yeah, I'm all good."

"You were thinking about him," he says quietly. "You got that...look."

"What look?" I blink.

Stan shakes his head. "Whenever you think of that fucker, your eyes get really really dark. And you just look so pissed like you could throw someone through a building."

My shoulders drop a bit and I tongue over my lips. "I'm sorry," I say softly. We come into a clearing in Starks and Kyle pulls me down, pressing our lips together. I moan softly and cup his face and he pulls back all too soon, looking at me with those sad green eyes.

"Hey, it's okay," he smiles lopsidedly. "Believe me, I'd more likely be angry if you thought about him and showed nothing at all."

I just smile and pull him flush against my chest, looking around for anyone surrounding us. "Okay," I breathe softly, dropping the box on the ground and kneeling down taking Kyle with me. Stan follows and we all stare at it intriguingly.

My fingers shake as I tear through tape surrounding the box, opening it to reveal a note and fabric at the bottom.

"What's it say?" Stan says as I pull it up towards my face.

"'_Kenneth,'_" I bite my lip. These fuckers know it's actually me. I take a shaky breath and resume, "'_We've watched you for years now. We know all about your immortality. Some things are too complicated to explain by note, however. So we would like to meet with you in person. Your friends are permitted and in fact encouraged to join us as well, however, note that taking them with you will potentially unleash a terrible demon inside of them...'" _I glance up, seeing Stan and Kyle look at each other worriedly before they look back at me.

"Go on," Kyle urges.

"'_We want nothing more than to show you your destiny, Kenneth. You may have donned a mask, but we still know there's yet one more that you hide behind. Tonight at midnight, back in Stark's Pond, we will meet. We watched your little friend being held hostage, and we all watched as you died once again. You are to meet us in that area where he began to learn. In this box you will find four cloaks. One for you, two for your friends, and one for your friend's brother who is also aware of your ability. They will allow you to pass through the barrier which we will set to unleash your destiny. Do not disappoint us, Kenneth. Things that you hold near and dear will be at stake should you refuse to cooperate. Not all will be explained to you on this night, but enough to sate your appetite for now. Have patience, Kenneth. We know you want to learn, and we are more than happy to allow you to unleash your potential. Until tonight. -H'"_

We all sat back and looked blankly at the box. "They...they want Ike, too?" Kyle says softly.

"You aren't going," I say firmly, crumpling the paper in my hand. "There's no way."

"We _have _to!" he protests. "Dude, I'm not letting you go alone."

"Right," Stan nods.

"It's way too dangerous," I shake my head. "And dragging the kid in on it, too? No way. I'm not letting you three get hurt over this shit."

Kyle glares at me, "Kenny. What would you do if Stan or I got this message? Would you stand back and just wave us off?"

"Well no but I-"

"But _nothing,_" he interrupts. "You are not doing this alone. These fuckers invited us, too."

"Besides, you heard him," Stan interjects quietly. "Something near and dear at stake? How many things do you hold near and dear?"

I look up at him before looking back on said thing, sitting there with a firm glaze over his green eyes. "I...I don't know what I would do if I got you hurt again," I croak at him.

He rolls his eyes, "Hey. Dumbass. We've been over this a thousand times. _You _didn't get me hurt. Look, we're going and that's fucking final. Besides, even if you say no, I'm probably going to sneak around in a cloak following you anyway," he smirks. "Sound familiar?"

I can't help but laugh a bit at him. He's right. "What about Ike?"

"We'll ask if he wants to," he shrugs. "He probably will though, knowing him. He doesn't say it because you're always there but he's still your biggest fan. Well, second biggest," he smiles softly.

I chuckle, pulling him in close to me. The three of us stare at the cloaks in the box and a chilling silence falls over us. My mind is racing and I don't know how to feel right now.

"Hey, Ken?" Stan asks softly.

"Yeah?"

"Last night...you told us that your immortality wasn't so great. Why is that?"

I look between the two of them and sigh. "Well, for one thing, no one has ever remembered me dying before now," I shrug. "You'd be like 'oh my god they killed Kenny.'"

"You...bastards," Kyle finishes, blinking confusedly and looking at Stan. They both stare at each other in a surreal stupor before turning back to face me.

"Right," I chuckle. "You had that down to an art. But then I'd show up the next day and you'd launch into whatever the hell you were involved in, completely forgetting that the day before you watched me get run over or electrocuted or what have you."

"We're sorry," Kyle winces.

"I don't blame you," I shake my head. "I won't lie, for a long-ass time, I did. I couldn't understand how you guys of all people would just..._forget _that I was gone. But after a few years, around the time we were I think thirteen," I shrug, "I started just accepting it."

"I wonder why it'd be like that, though," Stan blinks.

"I couldn't tell ya if I tried," I laugh. "Hell. I remember one time, Ky this was with you. I started getting really angsty about the whole thing. I told you to remember this time and threw myself in front of a train. And I watched you while I was dead and it was just so surreal."

"How so?" he asks.

"You cried like crazy. Then...after about maybe ten minutes, you just stopped. Literally. The tears just stopped. You stood up and walked home like it was nothing. You just went and played video games for hours and fell asleep. It was like you were in a trance when you stopped crying though. Like you'd been possessed or some shit."

"I...I don't remember that..." he shakes his head lightly. "Have you died since you got shot?"

I nod. "Yeah. It's not nearly as frequent as it used to be. But you haven't seen it. And I'm afraid of you two seeing me die again and the whole damn cycle starts all over again."

They look at each other before turning back at me. "Dude, we're sorry," Stan says. "Hopefully tonight we'll figure this out."

Kyle nods, "Right. We're gonna be right here for you. There's nothing that any shitty cult can do to make us forget. Not this time."

I can't help but smile at them, kissing Kyle's forehead tenderly. I hope to Christ they're right. I can't go back to that. I can't go back to them forgetting me time after time. I glance back at the box and take a deep breath. There's no turning back now. These people know me. They know my powers. And whatever my 'full potential' that they're talking about may be, this time, I'm not alone.

Never again will I do this alone.

* * *

_**A/N: yay spooky stuff. Next time we get to meet our cult yey.**_

_**Thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Ah sorry for the wait. I've been researching stuff and trying like hell to adapt a cohesive plot since I kind of just dove in here without thinking things through properly. Typical me, pft.**_

_**All right I think I have my ideas so let's do eet. Enjoy~**_

* * *

The night is eerily still, like it just _knows _that we're walking towards something that we shouldn't be involved in. I glance over to my left, staring at the three walking alongside me. I can't help but feel like I need to take the three of them and hide them somewhere, I just have a feeling that everything will go wrong here. 'Unleash a terrible demon'? As if that wasn't the biggest scream of foreshadowing to come in the world. But they seem almost unfazed by the threat. Ike was more than thrilled to go along with us when we told him what was happening, insisting that he would be able to handle himself. It was a bit amusing, seeing that same bright spark of determination in his eyes that his older brother had given me only a few hours earlier.

"You're staring again," Kyle says, looking up at me with a cocked brow. "You gonna be okay?"

I shrug and sigh, shifting the cloak around me a bit. It's heavier than my Mysterion cloak, if I have to fight, it could throw me off balance and Lord knows I don't need any other disadvantages going blindly into this thing. "Yeah," I say quietly. "I just don't like the fact that you three are coming."

"Well tough," Stan speaks up from the end of the line. "These guys could mean business and we're not about to let you just go into this on your own. Accept it and move on," he winks at me in the moonlight.

"Besides," Ike piques up, "This is interesting as fuck." He glances around Kyle and smirks at me, "This could be a mission! We could be like...like..."

"Superheroes?" Kyle snorts. "We already have one of those, two if you count Stan when he took Ken's costume."

"Damn straight that counts," Stan beams. "Besides, we all know if I was actually Mysterion a lot more shit would get done for this town."

"Oh really?" I look at him and raise my brow in challenge. "And just how do you figure?"

"The fact that I have a shit ton more muscle than you, you scrawny retard," he chortles.

I scoff and roll my eyes playfully. He's probably right, the dude could out bench-press me any day of the week. Still though, I've done more than enough of my fair share to keep this town running. Until he gets his own damn costume and does his own patrols, the guy has no room to talk.

"Are we there yet?" Ike asks softly.

"Close," Kyle says, a heavy breath escaping through his nose into the cold night air. His hand grabs onto mine and squeezes lightly. This can't be easy for him. He's gone far out of his way to avoid every place that he was held hostage. It'd been easy enough for him up until this point, but now he had to once again walk right back into that motherfucking clearing. It can't be easy to try to bat down any memories trying to squeak their way out of his mind.

Stan looks over at him and narrows his eyes. "Wait. Weren't you blindfolded when they were taking you here and away?"

He nods softly. "Yeah. But I...I went back looking for it." He looks over at Stan and sighs, "I guess I thought it'd give me closure..." he looks back and stares straight into the woods as we start heading around trees. "Ended up giving me a fucking meltdown instead," he mutters.

So maybe I was wrong. Apparently he wasn't avoiding anything.

"H-how did you..." Ike trails off biting his lip. "How'd you know it was the right spot?"

"There's still a small gouge in the tree from the handcuffs," he says softly. I can't take this anymore. I pull him into my arm and squeeze him tightly, feeling as though if I let go of him, he'll just fall into his memories and never find his way out.

"Ky, you don't have to do this," I tell him for maybe the thousandth time tonight. I don't want him to. He _knows _I don't want him to. The kid's just way too stubborn for his own good.

He looks up at me and shakes his head. "Ken, I'm fine. Look it sucks that they chose this particular place to meet, but I'm thinking that there has to be a reason. They were right in that letter, that's where I started to finally remember you dying. There has to be _some _sort of significance with that that we've all overlooked."

Ike groans a bit, throwing his head back, "I can't wrap my head around that whole thing," he says. "I mean, I knew about it...but fuck, it's just so surreal."

"Try living it," I manage to chuckle out. They have absolutely _no _idea how surreal it can really get. Knowing you're immortal, but also knowing that one of those times _has _to be the final strike...it's nearly unbearable. But so far so good I suppose. It's 0 to who knows how many deaths, and I'm still right here, wrapped around the boy that I'm supposed to be beside. Things may be spiraling out of my control, but maybe this will be an upswing.

I can only hope.

"It's just a few yards from here," Kyle speaks up again, leaning closer into me.

"Hoods up," I say briskly. They all comply and we continue walking through the twigs and leaves. Our footsteps are too loud for my comfort right now. I feel like I need to be sneaking up on this group, have the element of the dark and surprise in my favor. That's always been how Mysterion has operated. Being without the costume makes me feel vulnerable right now, almost naked as plain old Kenny McCormick once again. Hell, a part of me is pining to be Brandon right now more than this.

Kyle leans off of me as we see a light from our target. Our hands lace together as he grabs onto Ike's hand as well, who grabs Stan's. I guess we're all out of our comfort zone in this.

The air around us falls thickly, as though a pile of wool has been thrown in my face, and for a moment I feel like I'm suffocating. This must be the barrier they told us about. I step through it and take a breath of the crisp, thin air again, realizing Kyle hasn't moved with me. I look over and see him and Stan trying to pull Ike through the invisible haze.

"What the fuck," Ike blinks, pulling his hands from the two of them and placing his own against the barrier. He presses and grunts, looking like he's performing a pantomime routine. "Why can't I get in?" he asks, looking at us worriedly, his voice sounding far off and echoing softly around us.

Kyle reaches out and grabs his arm, trying to pull him through, doing nothing more than letting Ike hit where the barrier stands. "What the fuck, is the cloak broken or something?" he looks at me confusedly.

"No, he's just not as well-knowing as we believed," a voice perks behind us. We all three turn in shock, finding another three cloaked figures standing a few feet from us.

I can't help my instincts as I jump in front of Kyle and push Stan behind me as well. "Who are you?" I demand.

One of them holds up their hands, I can make out wrinkles, old grey skin drooping off of long, sharp nails. "Calm yourself, Kenneth. No harm will come to any of you on this night."

"And just why should I believe you?" I snap, wanting nothing more than to rip off Kyle and Stan's cloaks and throw them out of the barrier. I don't like these people in front of us. Something about them is just making my stomach churn.

Another one steps slowly over to us, staying about a foot away. "Trust us," it croaks. "We want nothing more than to help you down the right path. However, the boy needs taken care of," she gestures to Ike.

Kyle growls and hops out of the barrier, shielding Ike. "You don't fucking touch him," he seethes, hiding his brother behind his back.

It chuckles, "No, no. We're not going to hurt him, Kyle."

I freeze at his name and find myself growling. "You stay away from _all _of them!"

The three of them look at each other and sigh. The one closest to us raises her hands and we watch in awe as they glow a gentle purple. She flicks them in opposite directions and I find myself flying away from my spot, landing very genially on the ground. I look up, finding that Stan has been brushed aside as well. The figure continues walking towards Kyle and Ike and I jump to my feet, trying to advance on it. I'm suddenly stopped, my eyes flickering over to see the other two with similar lights on their hands, one blue and one green, both of them pointed in mine and Stan's directions. I look to see him struggling to move as well.

"Let go!" he shouts. "Kyle, Ike! Fucking run!"

I glance over at them in sheer panic, trying to will my limbs to burst forward as Kyle continues harboring Ike behind himself, backing away slowly from the purple figure. "Do not be afraid," it tells them. "We will not harm anyone. We wish only to make the boy forget yet again."

"Why?" Kyle snarls. "You told us to bring him so we fucking did! You don't fucking touch him!"

"We believed that he was as aware as yourself and he," it gestures to Stan. "We were incorrect. He still harbors doubt. We are going to let him sleep, he will forget, and he will wake up in the morning knowing nothing of Kenneth's secret or of tonight. Trust me, Child. It is for his benefit."

"How do I know you won't just fucking hurt him?" he snaps.

How the _fuck _do I get out of this magic bullshit?! I grit my teeth. "Kyle! Run!"

He doesn't give me so much as a second glance, still focused on what's in front of him. It sighs. "You'll just have to trust us." She holds up her hand again, it glowing that same purple. Stan and I watch in horror as Kyle flies back through the barrier through the air, hovering just off of the ground, his limbs flailing around as he screams for Ike to make a break for it.

We watch as it touches Ike with one of its fingernails and he falls onto the ground. The scream that erupts from Kyle's mouth echoes around us and the three of us are let go onto the ground. Kyle lands with a thud, hopping quickly to his feet, his shoes pounding as he rushes towards Ike. He shoves past the figure and dives down beside him, panting and holding an ear to his chest.

"He is merely sleeping," it assures us. "We will have someone watch him so you can rest assured that no harm will come to him. I promise you, Kyle. This was for the best. For his own sake."

He clutches Ike to himself and stares up at its cloaked head. "Who the fuck _are _you?" he demands. A figure dressed in a white cloak passes between Stan and I, and we watch as it steps out of the barrier, kneeling down beside Kyle. The hood is thrown back, and a woman with long, curly brown hair smiles kindly at him.

"They are who will help you all," she says softly, placing a hand on Kyle's arm. "He will be safe with me, I can assure you. If anything seems wrong, I will call you over immediately. All right?" her voice is soothing, even through the barrier. It's soft and filled with promise that anyone would almost have to be a fool not to believe. Kyle seems to think the same as myself as he nods, watching her carefully as he sets Ike back onto the ground. She pulls off Ike's cloak and sets it under his head, ripping her own off and putting it over him in a makeshift blanket. Kyle shakily gets to his feet, walking up to the figure still masked and glares.

"If anything happens to him, I'll kill you," he says curtly. It laughs softly, grasping his shoulder and leading him back through the barrier.

"He will be fine," it says. She lets go of him and Stan and I step up beside him once again. The three of them line up in front of us, each pulling down their hoods. We raise our brows and all jerk back a bit in unison.

Old ladies. We just got fucking bested by old ladies.

"Who are you?" Stan asks, a hint of fear lingering in his throat.

"We are the Harsh Spinners," they say in unison, bowing their heads slightly to us. The one that knocked Ike out smiles at us. "I am Clothe. These are my sisters, Lachesis, and Atropos."

I can't help but cock my head in confusion. "The fuck is a Harsh Spinner?"

"_The Weavers of Fate_," Kyle whispers, as though in a daze. Stan and I look at him and he shrugs. "Read something sometime, you idiots."

Atropos laughs and nods, "It seems you are knowledgeable about us, young one. Tell me, are you aware of our purposes?"

He frowns as Stan and I look at him expectantly. "Yeah," he nods. "You're supposed to control people's destiny. Why are you after Ken?" his face suddenly drops into a protective scowl. I can't say I hate that look on him.

Lachesis walks towards us, stepping slowly down the line and cupping Stan's chin. "Hm," she looks at him curiously. "You are strong," she says softly. "But you are soft as well. It is a rare trait to be sure. You will find yourself becoming enveloped in what you desire most."

He blushes and gulps. "Uh...t-thanks?" he blinks.

She steps to Kyle and does the same to him, staring into his eyes. "You...have fallen from yourself," she whispers. "But you will rise again, be assured. It will take time, and you will have to face your fears once more, but you will conquer them."

He shakes his chin out of her grip and tongues over his lips, looking up at her decrepit face. His words seem caught in his throat as he just nods briskly.

I do _not _like the way that sounds. He's got enough problems with his fears, he doesn't need added prophecy bullshit on top of all that.

Finally, she moves up to me. I see that purple glow still seated in her eyes as she reaches up and holds my face. "Kenneth, you are destined for great things," she whispers. "You have fallen from grace time and again, but you are ready to make use of what you have been given. It is your time to unlock your potential."

I can't help but scowl and step back from her hand. "What potential?" I ask angrily, unable to control myself. "What do you people want with me?"

"To make destiny take its proper course," Atropos frowns. "You were doing everything the way that it was intended. But then..." she points a finger at Kyle, "He sent everything spiraling out of the natural order."

We all look at him and he blinks. "M-me? What'd I do?"

Clothe walks over and takes his hands guiding him away from us into the clearing. She leads him to a tree and I can see Kyle shaking from where I stand. It takes a moment before my memory catches up with me. That's the one. That's the tree that he did _not _need to deal with right now. I growl and dart over towards them with Stan in tow. "What the fuck are you doing?" I shout, ripping him out of her grasp. "He has enough goddamn problems being here, you don't need to fucking give him a tour!"

She frowns, looking at Kyle whose eyes are stuck on the bark, forcing himself to breathe evenly. "Kyle," she says softly. He looks up at her and she gives him a smile. "Touch the tree, will you?"

He blinks at her. "Why?"

"Because, we're trying to find where fate diverged from its path. And you're the only one who has that power to help us."

He nods slowly, taking a deep breath and reaching over, placing his palm against the tree. We all watch in shock as it begins glowing a comforting yellow light. The women step up and watch with us as I pull Kyle back into my chest, unable to take my eyes off of the glow. "What...what the fuck is happening?" I whisper.

"This is where fate changed its course," Lachesis says quietly. She looks down at Kyle and sighs. "You went through so much," she whispers sympathetically. He looks up at her with heavy eyes. "You did not deserve for fate to take you down that road. If we had any true power over such events..." she trails off, patting his hair with her withered hand. "I'm truly sorry."

He shakes his head and looks back at the trunk. "I thought you three controlled everyone's destiny. Why couldn't mine have taken a different road? Or Kenny's for that matter?" he jerks his head back to me.

Clothe sighs and touches the tree, the light fading off softly into the night. "We are not the deciders of fate. We merely are here to present it. Our jobs are to let it run its natural course...but we have intervened from time to time."

"Well why the fuck didn't you intervene then?" Stan shoots, "Obviously you know what was happening."

"We did," Atropos shakes her head. "He was supposed to _die_ that night."

The three of us freeze and Kyle shakes in my arms. "What...whaddya mean he was supposed to die?" I ask, pulling him in closer to me.

"Do you remember the night you were brought here at all? Before Kenneth got here?" she ignores me and looks at Kyle.

He blinks and shakes his head. "I...I was drugged," he says, his voice cracking a tad.

"Yes," she nods. "That drug would have killed you had we not stepped in. It was about to completely wreck your nervous system since you hadn't been able to take your medicine before you were captured," she frowns.

He narrows his eyes, "Medicine?" He blinks for a moment in realization, "Wait my insulin?"

"Yes. Didn't you ever find it strange that throughout that course of events, your blood sugar never bothered you?"

"He kind of had more important things on his mind," I growl. His hand comes up and squeezes my arm.

"What, you turned off my diabetes?" he asks suspiciously.

Clothe shakes her head, "Not quite. We re-wove your fate a bit so that it would extend your life. However, we were not aware that it would have such dire consequences."

I'm getting fucking angry. This leading us all over the place thing is getting seriously old. "Okay, be fucking direct here," I spit. "What dire consequences?"

The three of them look at me and shake their heads. "Should he have died as was planned," Lachesis says slowly, "Then no one would remember you dying and coming back. There would be no one to re-write the fates."

"Then why did you save me?" Kyle asks quietly. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, but why save me in the first place?"

Atropos shakes her head, "Because fate was also telling us that you needed to survive. That Kenneth needed you to. You split everything into two completely separate paths. So we chose the route to take, and it ended up being the wrong one."

"Or at least," Clothe interjects, "So we believe. It's very possible that letting you pass also would have thrown everything off balance."

Stan groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. "What the fuck is off balance?"

Their faces all fall darkly. "Because Kenneth's secret is known by someone not of the orders, a terrible fate is possible to begin for the world," Atropos says lowly. "Because of this boy," she gestures to Kyle.

Kyle straightens up and stares her in the face with a frown. "I didn't make the choice, you did."

"Actually, it was you that began it," Lachesis replies. "Do you remember the three of you in that warehouse? Do you remember what you had to do?"

He shudders and I can just feel my rage reaching its bursting point. "I had to figure out who Mysterion was," he answers softly. "Hard to fucking forget when there was a gun against your fucking face," he snaps a bit.

Their dark faces fall back into sympathy and they sigh together. "When you figured it out," Clothe begins, "When you finally realized who your hero truly was, you diverged the path. You could only remember what happened out here to Kenneth because of that moment."

We all blink, "Whaddya mean?" I ask.

She pulls Kyle from me and has us stand facing each other. "He saw you as two people," she replies softly. "You weren't just Kenny. You weren't just Mysterion anymore either. You were both people to him, two completely separate entities in his mind. He was still weary from his struggles and had barely began to comprehend everything before you were shot. But _because _he didn't just see Kenny fall, he saw Mysterion as well, he could remember. He could differentiate the two, but not to the point where he only saw you as Kenny. He remembers Kenny falling, but _not _the hero. In his mind, Mysterion was still out there somewhere searching for him."

Kyle looks at her and blinks, "No I pretty much gave up at that point."

She pokes his temple lightly. "Your subconscious was still alive and well in there. You did everything in your realm of possibility to block out the brutality of your situation. Mysterion was still there for you since you had not caught up to the situation just yet. It was your exhaustion and pain and struggles that made it possible for you to remember."

Stan steps up beside us and raises his brow, "Well then why the fuck do _I _remember?"

"You assumed his identity," Lachesis answers simply. "You also differentiated, but in a different sense. When you put on the cloak, when you decided to take the role of Mysterion, you were splitting your own fate. Leading to either where you would hand back the uniform to Kenneth, or, should he not reappear, you would have completely assumed it and taken the job for yourself."

He blinks before looking at me with a forced smirk, "told ya I'd be a better Mysterion than you."

I can't help but smile back at him a bit before standing up in front of the old ladies in front of me. This is just way too complicated. "You said that there was dire consequences. I'd like to know just what it is you're throwing me into, please."

They look at each other before focusing back on me. "Kenneth, you saw a creature last night, correct?" Lachesis questions.

I nod, "Ky said it was a shadower."

"And he was correct," Clothe nods. "A shadower sent by a terrible group that is ready to unveil you to the world."

We all blink. "Y-you mean it wasn't from _you_?" Kyle asks worriedly, grabbing my hand. I can barely make out the feeling of him rubbing his thumb around my skin reassuringly.

Atropos shakes her head, "You spoke of the Grey Brothers, Kyle. You were correct. They're set out to unleash a terrible demon onto the earth. And Kenneth is the only one who can stop it."

"D-demon?" I step back a bit, pulling Kyle with me. "I fucking fight junk-heads and run-of-the-mill muggers and shit! I don't know a damn thing about demons."

"Which is why we invited your friends as well," Lachesis says, her hand glowing that damn purple again. We watch as a heavy, darkened book appears in it. She hands it over to Kyle, who takes it questionably. "You are already aware of the basics of this group," she says softly. "You must be the one who helps Kenneth figure out the correct path to take in order to defeat this monster."

"What am I looking for?" he looks up confusedly.

"And why am I here?" Stan adds, putting his hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"Because you are strong, Stanley" Clothe says firmly. "You will be able to help Kenneth through the challenges he will face when it comes to brute force, and Kyle will be able to help him through the innards of how the system of fates work."

"Why can't you help me? What are they sending after me?" I ask, too many questions are piling in my head, my panic is starting to rise. I don't like this, I don't like this one bit at all...

"We have interfered with your destiny already," Atropos says quietly. "We can only do it once, and we are not able to do it again. You are on your own to defeat this monster. Know that when it comes to the end, you and _only _you can defeat the ultimate evil."

"What ultimate evil?" Kyle demands. "What the hell am I researching here?!"

Lachesis looks over at him and cups his chin again. "You will figure it out piece by piece," she tells him. "The book will reveal itself to you as you come closer to the answers you seek. We cannot tell you of what is to come, as it would diverge the path yet again. You will figure it out, though," she assures him. "All of you will," she looks between the three of us.

Clothe stares at us one at a time. "We can no longer interfere with destiny. We can no longer re-weave your story. Please note that this is a trial of incredible danger. You will be lost time and again. Your minds will possibly be lost in the mishap. But should you refuse to accept what is your destiny, then it will destroy not only you, but everything that you care about."

A heavy, tense silence looms over us as we all six stare at each other. Stan, Ky, and I can't wipe the bewilderment from off our faces. What the fuck are they even going on about?

"The battle will not happen for quite some time," Atropos assures us. "But you will be using that time preparing. Little by little, all will be revealed. You must work on it though, and you must realize that this is a battle that none of you can fight alone," she looks at me pointedly. "That includes yourself, Kenneth. You dragged them into your secrets and now you must discover all of them together."

"We will be watching," Clothe bows her head a bit. "Rest assured, you have the ability to fight this monster, but it will take everything out of all of you. You will be facing the largest challenges of your lives, but if you work through it together, you should be able to come out on top."

Lachesis smiles, "You have time to rest yourselves and prepare, boys. We will be watching. We'll send you and the young one back to Kyle's home." They all three raise their hands and we flinch a bit at the lights starting.

"WAIT WE NEED MORE INFOR-" I start in a panic before I feel myself falling through empty space before slipping out of the void. We all four crash land on Kyle's carpet on top of one another. Stan, Kyle, and I groan collectively, untangling our limbs and looking around the room confusedly. Kyle leans over and pokes Ike's side, who mumbles and curls into himself.

"Talk about a heavy sleeper," Stan jokes weakly. "Holy shit," he sighs, rubbing his nose exhaustively. "What the fuck just happened?"

I sit up and run my fingers through my hair angrily. "I just got fucking booted out of my own secret fucking club that's what!" I growl. "Why the _fuck _did they have to be so fucking...AGH!" I yell threw clenched teeth. "Demons and fate and magic and other fucking bullshit I can't even..." my shoulders droop tiredly and I find myself leaning against the edge of Kyle's bed, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do."

I look over at Kyle, who's tracing the book in his hand with delicate fingers. He slowly flips through it, narrowing his eyes. "This is in fucking...Latin? Some other lost variation maybe, it doesn't look like traditional Latin to me..." he murmers. "Fuck me I don't want to translate this," he sighs and looks at me tiredly. "But I guess if it saves the world or just you or whatever I will," he smiles sheepishly.

I can't help but snort, "Thanks."

Stan looks at me, "Ken? What should we do?"

I blink, looking between the two of them before shrugging. "Well you heard 'em. I guess the three of us are gonna be saving the world or some shit. I wish they would have told us more about what the fuck was going on, though," I mutter, shaking my hair out of my eyes. "This is just..."

"Too much," Kyle finishes softly, moving over and leaning against my side, holding the book tightly still. We all three stare down on it for a bit, feeling the heaviness of the air folding in around us. Too much is an understatement. I'm still not sure what the fuck just happened. Where is this other group? Why do they want to destroy me or the world? Why is it that they picked _now _to attack? Is it because Kyle and Stan know about my power?

This is just giving me a migraine at this point.

"Holy shit," Kyle whispers. Stan and I follow his stare, our jaws dropping as the cover of the book gives off a golden glow from forming letters, each one slowly spelling out something like a Ouija board. Kyle grabs a pencil and pen from the nightstand and jots each letter down as it flashes and fades from us. Our faces drop together as the glowing stops, a very clear message scribbled out in the midst of Kyle's franticness:

'_HE WILL RISE'_

* * *

_**A/N: I know, sooooo much dialogue. Pretty necessary here, however. There was so much here that needed walked through. More will be revealed as time goes on =u=**_

_**thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Filler time again. This is the last chapter I'm going to have with a huge emphasis on Kyle's post-trauma psyche. At least for awhile. Trust me, it will come into play later on. Also it's a mostly Stan and Ken chapter because I have dirty laundry with them that needs aired out pft.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

I open my eyes into the daylight, snuggled down into Kyle's mattress with an exhausted hum. My dreams were plagued with visions of the Harsh Spinners, with their foreboding doomsday warnings. I can barely make heads or tails of it. I have no idea what to do about it all at this point, I guess Stan, Kyle and I are just going to have to play it all by ear like they said. I sit up begrudgingly and run my fingers through my hair. I look over to my side, seeing Kyle's side of the bed empty. I narrow my brows and look over and see him sitting at his desk, staring intently down at that damn book.

"Ky?" I croak out.

He turns and smiles at me, "Hey, you sleep all right?"

I shrug, "Shitty dreams about fucking prophecies. How about you?"

He shrugs right back, "Same old, same old." He sighs tiredly and turns his chair around, looking down at Stan passed out still on the floor. He nudges him with his foot. "Stan. Stan get up."

"Meehhhh," he argues, batting away Kyle's prodding. I snicker as Kyle looks up at me, my face falling as I realize his eyes are entirely bloodshot.

"Dude, are you okay?" I ask in concern, swinging my legs off the bed and giving Stan a swift kick to rouse him from sleep.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Stan groans, sitting up and punching my leg. He rubs his eyes and glares at me tiredly. "Ever heard of fucking talking to someone to wake them up?"

I shrug, "You know how impatient I am." I look back at the redhead pitiably. "Ky, what's wrong?"

He slinks down in his chair, throwing his glasses off his face and rubbing his eyes a bit. "I had a bit of a...meltdown this morning," he mutters.

"Jesus Christ why didn't you wake us up?" I ask, hurrying to his side and clasping him in a hug. He whimpers a bit and I let go of him automatically. Kyle told me months ago that sometimes he didn't want to be touched when he was feeling particularly antsy, even if it's by me. It took me a long ass time to get away from doing so but I can tell he needs the space now more than ever. "Sorry, sorry," I apologize, backing up and sitting on the bed. Stan clambers up beside me and stares at Kyle as worriedly as I feel.

"What happened?" Stan asks softly.

He shrugs, "Nothing out of the ordinary. Usually happens once or twice a week."

"What happens?" I quirk my brow.

He avoids looking at us and strokes the scar on his thumb tiredly. "I wake up, have a panic attack, go to the bathroom, throw up and cry for about an hour," he says softly. "I've been doing it every goddamn week since everything happened..." he raises his eyes back into ours and I can feel my own glazing with tears. "I'm fine," he assures us. "I know it doesn't _sound _fine but it's just become part of the routine."

Stan's face falls drastically along with my own. "Routine?" Stan repeats. "Kyle, routine is brushing your teeth after you listen to a certain song or some shit. What you're talking about is _not _healthy."

He shifts uncomfortably and sighs, "I know. I know. Trust me, I fucking hate that my body has just...adjusted to it," he winces. "But for now it's just...what happens. I know when it's coming in my sleep. I don't know what the fuck triggers it, but it's like that feeling when..." he looks up thoughtfully. "You know how when you're sleeping and you're about to get a leg cramp, your body wakes you up to try to stop it?" We both nod. "It's like that. I wake up and know I have about twenty seconds to get to the bathroom or I'll end up spewing on the carpet," he rolls his eyes. "Like I said, I've gotten used to it."

I bite my lip, "What can we do to help?"

He snorts out a small laugh and shakes his head, "Probably not a goddamn thing, Ken. Maybe the goddamn shrink will tell me, I don't know," he shrugs. "I'll figure it out..." he pauses and looks at Stan, biting his lip. "Stan...I fucking hate to do this but I have a question. About something you said last night before we ended up with the Spinners? It's been driving me fucking crazy and I have to know."

He cocks his head and nods, "Yeah?"

Kyle straightens up and scans over Stan's face analytically. "You...how did you know I was blindfolded when Cartman took me out of the woods, Stan?"

The room goes silent for a minute and I look at Stan beside me, narrowing my eyes a bit. That's a good goddamn question...then I jolt. I fucking remember. Oh no...

"You were there, weren't you?" he asks softly.

Stan gulps and nods his head subtly. "Yeah...I-I was."

"So," Kyle's eyes narrow viciously. "You watched _everything _that happened?"

Stan tremors a bit and I have no idea what fucking side to be on right now. I told Stan to come with me and watch to see if he could get Kyle away or if something happened to me. I _also _told him not to interfere should something actually happen to me. Problem is I was fucking dead. I have no fucking idea what happened out in the woods after I was shot down.

Kyle gets to his feet, walking in front of Stan and staring down at him angrily. "You _watched _Cartman fuck me on Kenny's fucking body?!" he screeches, gesturing over to me. My eyes widen and I stare at Stan in shock. "I thought that...that you just knew about Ken from the news that Cartman put on but you...oh my god," he slams his face into his palms.

"No no no!" he jumps to his feet and shakes his head and hands. "Kyle I swear to god I didn't-"

"Then how the _fuck _did you know about the blindfold, Stan?!" he pants, his eyes glossing over with tears. "Fuck do you know how...how..." he stops and grabs his stomach, beginning to dry heave. Oh god no. I snag his trash can from the side of the bed and lean him down over it, trying not to touch him as much as I can.

"Kyle I swear I didn't," Stan says. "I...I was too far away and...and Kenny told me not to interfere and I didn't know what to do..." he runs his fingers through his hair and tugs viciously.

Kyle gulps down his heaves, looking at me with those bloodshot eyes and making my chest tighten in complete guilt and sympathy. "You told him not to help me?" he whispers.

My heart nearly breaks at the insinuation. "Cartman had a gun, Kyle," I manage to work out. "He...he could've killed you...or Stan..." I shake my head slowly. "I-I'm sorry. Kyle, I didn't want you killed. I didn't know that he would-" I stop, unable to croak out the ugly truth through a massive lump in my throat.

He looks between the both of us, his entire body shaking. I can't tell if it's in fear, anger, embarrassment...God I don't know _what _I can do for him at this point. He shakily grabs onto his nightstand and hoists himself up to his feet, his eyes stuck on the ground.

"I...I need to...," he shakes his head, turning and grabbing the book and his glasses from off his desk, walking past us to his door. "I gotta get out of here," he mutters, barely sounding like himself as he quietly leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

Stan and I look at each other, both of us completely lost as to how to proceed. "Do...do we follow him?" Stan asks.

I gulp and shake my head slowly. "He needs to get away from us for awhile," I say slowly. "We have to respect that."

"With this fucking cult all over the place?" he says frantically, pacing around the room, his fingers still twisted in his hair. "Fuck fuck fuck I shouldn't have mentioned the fucking blindfold!" he growls at himself. "God**dammit**he thinks I just sat there and watched Cartman...UGH!" he throws himself back onto Kyle's bed.

I just watch him, a bit in awe at his reaction. "Stan...I have a question, too."

"What?" he answers miserably.

"Just what _did _you do when he was...well..." I look off to the side and sigh. I had no idea what the fuck Cartman did to him when I was dead. Doing _that_ to him on top of me? Jesus fucking Christ no wonder Kyle got so upset. That fucker was doing everything in his power to break him. I have no idea how he didn't accomplish just that because I sure as hell would've been.

"I did watch," he says quietly. "Not _watch_ watch but...I knew it was happening," he shudders. "I could hear it...I..." he looks at me with misery in his eyes. "I didn't want him to die, Kenny," he whispers. He sits himself back up and sighs, "I wanted nothing more than to go down there and kill that fat fuck myself. But Kyle was so...and you were..." he rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I fucked up. I fucked up so goddamn bad."

I sit next to him on the bed and place my hand on his shoulder. "No, Stan. You didn't. You're right, Cartman would have killed one or both of you if you'd stepped in. And the _only _reason we got Kyle out of that mess is because we confused that asshole at the school. If you'd appeared too soon, well...Kyle probably wouldn't be here right now." I blink away tears from my eyes. The hypothetical is still just too much for me to handle.

He looks at me and shakes his head, "Do you think Ky hates me?"

I smirk at him a bit, "No. He'll analyze it for awhile, realize that you were doing what was best for him and calm down a bit. He's embarrassed right now. We've learned more about what he's been going through in the past week than we have since everything happened. It's a lot for him to be dealing with right now."

"Which is why he shouldn't be out there alone," Stan says lowly. "Ken, what if those fucking Grey Brothers or whatever are making him a target?"

"I think I'm their target, not Kyle," I shrug.

"Yeah, but what better way to get to you than _through _him?" Stan counters. "If that fucking Shadower or whatever has been watching you, then he's been watching Kyle, too."

I bite my lip, completely torn. Kyle needs the space, and he knows me well enough to know if I'm Mysterion and stalking him around. But _fuck _what if Stan is right? A beep from my jeans on the other side of the room tears me away and I walk over, pulling out the phone that Kyle bought for me in his name months ago to keep in contact with me. I flick it open and sigh a bit in relief at a message from Kyle: _'I know you two are probably worried about me and the cult or whatever. Don't be. I'm going to the diner you and I ate at a few days ago. It's public so I don't think there'll be any trouble. The two of you can meet me here, but give me about a half an hour to calm down first. Sorry I freaked out. Love you.'_

I shake my head a bit and smile at Stan. "He's two steps ahead of us," I wave my phone. "He's going to a restaurant where it's public. He says we can meet him after a while when he calms down."

Stan's face practically melts in relief, "Both of us can meet him?" he asks hopefully.

I nod, "Yeah. You know Kyle, Dude. He's not angry at you, he's just embarrassed and angry at that fucking fatass," I frown. "He's been feeling like he's not so strong lately, and I think the idea of _you _seeing him so vulnerable just really put him on edge."

He slinks guiltily and sighs, "This whole situation is just so...bizarre," his face twists up. "Everything feels so different now."

"Tell me about it," I nod wearily, stepping in front of Kyle's mirror and fixing the damnable wig on my head. "Between Kyle being so...non-Kyleish and this whole cult thing, it's like we've been thrown into some shitty alternate dimension."

He quirks his brow, watching me struggle with the wig, "Non-Kyleish?"

I glance back at him and shrug, "Ky's usually so tough, ya know? Watching him break down like this is killing me and you know it is him, too. I hope this goddamn therapist his parents are setting him up with does him some good." My shoulders sag and I reach down, pulling open Kyle's shirt drawer and shuffling through the fabric.

"Well I mean, Kyle's always been pretty emotional when stuff has gone really wrong with him," Stan responds quietly. "Not to this level but I'm pretty sure that whole scenario takes the cake for the worst thing that could possibly happen to him."

I nod solemnly, "Yeah." I pause and quirk my brow as a book pops into my sight, hidden in a shirt at the bottom of the drawer. I pull it out and my face drops as I scan over the title.

"Ken?" Stan asks. "What is that?"

"'_Dealing with PTSD: A Guide to Finding Yourself Again_'," I read quietly. "Jesus Christ he's been working on it more than I thought," I say, flipping through a bit and seeing bits highlighted and notes scribbled in corners of the pages.

"Does...does he have anything in there...?" he asks softly.

I continue shuffling through, finding a page filled with Kyle's handwriting. "There's a lot in here," I murmur. "It's one of those 'write it out' books..." I pause, my eyes scanning over the paper and I can't help but smirk a bit.

"I highly doubt whatever's in there is funny, Kenny," Stan says a bit angrily.

"Not funny, more inspirational," I shake my head. "It's a page about dealing with something significant happening after the fact...Kyle did it the day after the trial ended."

"Well?" he urges.

"'_Shoulda stepped on his goddamn flabby throat when I had the goddamn chance,'" _I read. _"'Fucker is going to try to kill me again. It might be fifty years from now, but I'm not stupid. He's going to fucking come back after me and there's nothing I can do but wait for it to happen. But that's irrelevant, who the fuck wants to live past 65 anyhow? But it'll be all right. Everything is going to get better. It can seriously go nowhere from here but up. A part of me really hopes that fat piece of shit becomes somebody's bitch. Another part really wants for someone to bludgeon his goddamn skull in at a prison riot or some cliche bullshit like that. The last part of me just wants to __**forget**__. Fuck I wish I could just erase that part of my life. However, I also don't want to. I came out of all of that bullshittery with Kenny. That was the only thing that kept me going and he and Stan are the only things keeping me going now. I don't know what I'd do if they weren't here. Everyone I fucking know and don't know is telling me to go on suicide watch. Why the fuck would I come out of something like that alive and want to kill myself? Why would I want to waste the chance that I somehow got? I mean fuck I was shot in the goddamn chest __**twice **__and I'm still alive. I guess it's common for people to freak out and think death is the only way to actually forget, but it's just not me. I won't forget. I'm well aware that I'll never let go of what happened. But fuck that fucking fatass won everything else about what happened to me. I'm not going to let him win my death, too. I told him he'd never own me and I fucking meant it. He won't win this time; I won't let him.'"_

I close the book and can't help but shake my head a bit, looking up at Stan who has a bemused smirk on his face. "He's a stubborn little guy, ain't he?" I snicker, wrapping it back in its shirt and putting it back where I found it. "He says he doesn't feel strong but I don't know, reading that makes me think that he's selling himself awful short," I start changing and look at Stan who's looking out the window thoughtfully. "What's up?"

He looks back and shakes his head, stretching a bit. "Nothin'. Just...I guess that there's a lot that we don't know about Kyle and it's driving me a little nuts."

I shrug, "Well, he's been telling us bits and pieces. I mean, that's progress for him, right? Besides, you know Ky. He ain't as open as that book," I jerk my head towards the drawer.

He sighs and begins pulling on clothes with me. "Yeah, I know. I still feel so _guilty _about the whole thing, ya know?"

I raise my brow as I slip on my hoodie. "Why would you feel guilty? About the thing in the woods?"

He shakes his head, "Well, yeah. But I mean..." he bites his lip and looks up at me. "Do...do you think if we'd told him in the beginning that you're Mysterion, things would've been different?"

I hum in thought, tying my shoes and staring hard at the ground. "Probably not, or it probably woulda made it worse somehow," I sigh. "They wouldn't have kidnapped us, they would've just tortured Kyle until he gave a name. And you know he wouldn't crack if we weren't there to be potential targets," I roll my eyes. I stand up and cross my arms. "I fucking hate to admit it, but Cartman knew the three of us well enough to know just how to get what he wanted."

"Well luckily he was a stupid piece of shit, too," Stan sighs, heading towards the door as I follow him. "Otherwise who knows where we'd be right now."

"Easy," I mutter, following him down the steps, glancing around for Kyle's family. "Ky would still be Cartman's fucking hostage, you and I would be doing nothing but trying to stop him, and Kyle's mom would've sent the army after him."

He snorts a bit and nods in agreement. "Yeah, yeah you're right."

I glance at the clock in the living room, "If we head out now for the diner, that should give Kyle more than the half hour he needs."

"Cool," he nods.

"Boys?" Sheila steps out of the kitchen and raises her brow.

"Yeah?" we respond together.

"I thought you left with Kyle," she says slowly.

I shake my head, "He needed a little bit of time to himself, Mrs. Broflovski. We're heading out to meet him now, don't worry."

She nods a bit, "All right, be safe," she bites her lip and scurries back into the kitchen.

Stan and I look at each other tiredly before pressing forward and out the front door. The two of us walk beside each other down the sidewalk and I can't help but hate the daylight in a sense. Too contradictory to everything that's been flooding in this past week. So many goddamn twists and turns that I just don't think that I could keep up with it if I really wanted to. "-im?" Stan finishes and I look at him with a start.

"What?"

He rolls his eyes. "Do you think she'll ever back off of him?" he repeats.

I shake my head. "No. You know Sheila, she's always been super protective of him and Ike. I wouldn't be surprised if when she died, it was in her will that she's to be taxidermied and the boys have to switch off between what house she's kept in so she can keep her eye on the both of them."

He snorts in laughter and punches my arm lightly. "You're probably not far off."

I chuckle and we continue walking together before the question flies out of my mouth from nowhere before I can stop it: "So, do you still hate the fact that Kyle and I are together? And I don't mean the weirdness of it, I mean the Mysterion aspect," I look at him and raise my brow.

He blinks at the abrupt questioning, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "I mean...yes and no?" he winces. "Don't get me wrong, Dude, you know that I trust you. I know you'd never hurt Kyle or anything like that. But...with all he's going through right now I feel like sometimes you being Mysterion just re-opens floodgates for him, ya know?"

I narrow my eyes a bit, "Let me remind you of something: Remember when I broke up with him before the three of us were kidnapped?"

He nods guiltily, "Yeah..."

"Remember how that was _your _idea and all it did was turn Kyle into a giant mess on top of all the other stuff that he was going through?"

He scratches behind his ear awkwardly and clears his throat. "Yeah. Yeah I remember," he sighs. "I don't know, maybe I just read too many comics or something. I really thought that it'd help him in the end."

I shake my head, "Stan, you know Kyle better than anybody, including me. You really think that he's the kind of person that believes in that cliche bullshit? If he ever tells me to leave him, I will. But I don't plan on gettin' away from him and you shouldn't be dwelling on the fact of what happened. Ky's trying to forget and we should, too. He hasn't been in any kind of danger since I picked back up the cape and decided not to come back from the dead," I shrug. "This cult thing is the closest we've gotten to another cliche story arc."

"Except that you being Mysterion is what threw us in this arc," he reminds me. "That's the only reason Kyle and I are involved."

I throw my head back tiredly and stare up at the clouds marring the blue sky. "I know. I'm sorry that I dragged you into all this. I wish I knew _what _it was I was dragging you into. But you heard the Spinners, all three of us have to work together or whatever the fuck the 'ultimate evil' is is going to kill us and everything else."

"I wonder _why _it has to be the three of us though," he questions. "I mean, is it just for convenience sake or what?"

I can't do anything but blink at that. I have no fucking idea. It's not like Kyle and Stan are magical beings like myself or the Spinners. Maybe it's just that they know? Maybe it's because it'll make my job a little easier? This whole situation raises so many more questions than I think I can ever answer.

"Don't get me wrong," he continues. "I'm more than willing to help you with whatever the fuck it is we're dealing with. You know I have your back." I smile and nod at him a bit. "I just wish those old broads would've told us a little more."

I shrug, "You heard 'em, they can't interfere with our destinies again. Maybe giving us too much information would've messed up their sys-" I pause as my jeans start ringing again. I pull it out to Kyle's name and slide it open. "You okay?" I ask.

"_Yeah I'm doing a lot better, you and Stan on your way?"_

"We just left your house," I respond, more than relieved that he sounds like he's calmed down immensely.

"_Good, hurry the fuck up and get here as fast as you can."_

I pause and Stan stops with me, staring at me worriedly. "Kyle? Did something happen?" I ask in a bit of a panic.

A slight pause follows before Kyle lets out a shaky breath, _"I...I think I figured out some more of the book. Kenny, what I'm about to ask you is going to sound strange, but do either of you have a knife or something sharp on you?"_

"Uhhh...Stan?" I look over at him questionably. "Do you have some kind of knife or something on you?"

He raises his brow, "I have my pocket knife...why?"

"He has a pocket knife, Kyle," I tell him. "Why do we need one?"

"_Just trust me and get over here as soon as you can. It's not to stab someone, I promise," _he chuckles a bit. _"I'll explain when you two can see what I mean."_

"All right," I bite my lip, hanging up and starting to briskly make my way towards town. Stan follows by my side and looks at me confusedly.

"Uh, so, what was that about?"

I look over at him before turning my attention back onto the street, my body kicking itself on on its own and starting to run down the sidewalk. He catches up to me, keeping in stride and looking at me expectantly. I flicker my eyes towards him and let out a long breath, "Apparently Kyle figured something else out in the book." He's silent, nodding as we continue rushing down the sidewalk, dodging around people determinedly. He seems just as tense as I feel. I'm not willing to dive that far into whatever it is that's been set up in front of us. But I guess that there's no point in trying to fight it. Whatever Kyle's figured out, whatever path this is going to lead us down...I just hope that it's the one that'll work out for us all.

* * *

_**A/N: Next time is supernatural mumbo-jumbo pft. Probably. Or like just the introduction. There's only so much I can do with the 4-5,000 word limit I put in each of these chapters.**_

_**Enjoy one of the last normal chapters because it's probably going to start getting confusing and dark after this one.**_

_**Oy.**_

_**Thanks for R&amp;Ring!**_


End file.
